


Concerted Indiscipline

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BDSM, D/s, Historical abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-24 16:06:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8378665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Hux hates Kylo. Really. Really. Deeply.Until he doesn't... so much.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: there are elements to the D/s relationship (and the relationship in general) which are not #goals. It's a work of fiction and so there are some interactions you shouldn't consider as the author approving of, but which are (I feel) inkeeping with the characters. If you're not sure about how to explore kink, D/s, pain and power play in a healthy manner, please ask away and I can signpost to helpful places!
> 
> Things will work out for the better by the end.

It’s been six years. Six.

Six years since that blasted crow of a man was stationed on _his ship_. Six. Years. Of. His. Life. That Hux will _never_ get back. Admittedly he’s not suffered for every hour of every cycle since the Leader assigned Ren to his ship, but it’s been close enough.

There were nightmares. Plural. Regular. Intense. 

Hux spent three years convinced Ren was in his head at every opportunity, then three years aggressively thinking offensive things whilst hoping the man could hear. 

And he’s had enough. Really. It’s one more fuck up, one more fight on the bridge where Ren belittled him in front of everyone, and whatever sense of Right was still floundering in him snapped.

“Command suite. _Now_.”

He barks it out, pulling himself up to his full height. General Hux is _not_ a short man, but that bastard has to go and have a few inches over him, made worse by the helmet and hood. All the same, he glares _up_ like he’s looking _down_ his nose, and his eyes meet the irisless slit across the Knight’s face.

Hux has had enough. Really.

“General...”

“ _Now, Ren_.”

To his delighted surprise, the man storms into it.

Hux can feel every. Single. Eye. They’re not on him, but they itch to be. They just watched their commanding officer (or, almost watched him) order the Leader’s Right Hand Man into the other room like a naughty pet. 

It feels good. Almost enough to make up for the fury in his fists. But not quite.

Ren is going to cause him to aneurysm before he’s forty.

***

Hux has tried aloof. He’s tried professional. He’s tried reason, he’s tried ignoring, he’s tried arguing, and he’s tried appealing to the man’s better nature.

Kylo, Master of the Knights of Ren, is an insufferable little _shit_. He’s a **brat**. He’s never grown up from the child he was when he turned tail and ran, the same boy with too-big ears and nose, swaddled in black, that he’d seen when he’d been younger, too.

It had been fine when he’d been at a distance. When the Force-sensitive had been some shadowy figure, skulking around the hemline of the Leader’s robes. When he’d been something esoteric and unknowable. 

Yes. He could have lived with that.

It was when he had to deal with him first hand that he became insufferable. 

When he realised the man was about as devoted as Hux’s own left boot. No, _less_ than Hux’s left boot. He was a wishy-washy, non-committal, barely-there thing. He didn’t pull his weight, he frequently ruined (or almost ruined) missions out of spite, stupidity, or slovenliness, and... he just undermined Hux at every. Available. Opportunity.

Hux did not get where he is today by being an argumentative little shit who had one good talent and expected the galaxy to revolve around him. And yes, the argumentative streak was _there_ , but he likes to think he only lets it out when it’s useful. Likes to think he makes it serve his purpose, instead of allows it to rule him, to push him into argument for the sake of argument. 

Kylo Ren argues when it doesn’t serve him. Either he likes the discord, or he can’t stop himself, and Hux does not know which is worst. 

But this – this is it. He’s going to kick the man off his ship if it’s the last thing he does. He _cannot_ function with him around, and the Leader either finds some other poor sap to foist him on, or Hux... he doesn’t know what he’ll do, he just knows it won’t be with Ren anywhere near him. 

The whole situation is just untenable, now. Ren makes his hair stand on end, and makes his stomach swirl, and makes him want to punch that mask and worse. He makes Hux be who he doesn’t _want_ to be, brings out the worst in him. Hux prides himself on using his drive for benefit, and Ren pulls essential energy and thought processes away from his target.

And he’s standing in the command suite, glaring at him through the mask.

Hux should not do it.

He should not.

He might well be executed for it, if he even walks out of the room alive, but the last straw was arguing about _weapons calibrations_ and it was nothing to do with him and everything to do with Ren finding every possible way to irritate him.

Even though it means he’s won, Hux takes a hand, transforms it into a fist, and lands it at a thirty-two degree angle to the faceplate, aiming for the nose beneath. He couldn’t get much swing behind it, or risk telegraphing his intention. He’s still surprised when the blow lands, and his arm isn’t frozen still, or ripped off with the Force.

Kylo Ren... takes a half step back, and glares at him some more.

Only...

“Take that idiotic mask off, _now_. I’ve seen your ridiculous face, your intimidation tactics won’t work on me.”

“Why would I—”

“Take. It. Off.” Anger throbs through him, making his tongue want to clatter out nonsense sounds more by the minute. The curt words avoid the worst of it, prevent him from stammering, as his heart pumps furiously fast, ready to fight.

“Only the Leader—”

Leader this, Leader that... the Leader doesn’t have to cope with Ren being a pompous little, spoilt Resistance-coddled _brat_. The Leader doesn’t have to handle the squabbling, mewling little wretch, and Hux’s ability to put up and shut up has long since expired.

This time it’s a slap. Across the cheek, more insult than injury. Ren reels, his hand up to the place, and when Hux’s fingers fight for the clasps around his face, Ren only squawks and tries to push them away. An elbow goes into his gut, a foot on his, his nails scratch throat, and then there’s a hissclunk as the damn thing opens, and Hux _hurls_ it at the wall.

Underneath, the man doesn’t look like he’s been smacked. The helmet _does_ have some use, then. No bloody nose, but eyes that look as much afraid as they do angry. He’s gone from fighting off Hux’s hands to gripping his wrists, his eyes bouncing manically away every time they look up.

It would be better if he wasn’t so damned _pretty_. In an awkward, ethereal, other-worldly kind of way. All bold features and full lips and long lashes. Pretty, and Hux...

...

His hair is long enough to grab hold of, to pull backwards, to see what happens. Ren’s eyes drift almost-shut, his spine arching into the stress position, his hands still, his lips parting over the slight zig-zag of teeth. 

Hux holds him there. Just for a moment. The hand in his hair must be hurting, but Ren doesn’t fight it. He seems to relax into the agony, his lashes dancing like there’s a breeze over his face, when Hux isn’t breathing at all. 

“Is that what you’ve wanted, all along?”

Kylo doesn’t speak, but his face lights up like a kyber crystal focusing fire. His hands go soft around Hux’s wrists, the only concession to the moment. 

Really, Ren? He’d been a bolshy, pushy, obstructive little bitch to force his hand like this? Looking back, Hux wonders why he didn’t see it before. Why he didn’t see that Ren was craving something dark and twisted. 

The air is thick like treacle, like choking, salt-steam in his lungs. Hux is still walking a dangerous line, still close to where he could be brutally murdered at any moment. Maybe he wants that, too, on some level. Wants to fight until the end, never surrendering, even as he’s cut in half by a frozen sword of light.

Down. He pushes down, and Kylo goes. Their eyes meet, because it’s not an easy push, with the Knight fighting him carefully as he’s forced to genuflect. Hux doesn’t waver, doesn’t back down. 

If he’s going to die, if he does so with Kylo Ren on his knees... 

The boy pulls his lower lip in with his teeth, and Hux can’t have that. He wants to see them in all their glory, and he plucks the lip with his thumb, like a musician playing his instrument. Between his thighs, like a Human harp. 

There’s a momentary pause, and the boy is smart enough to arch forwards. His eyes down first, as he catches Hux’s thumb in his mouth. Hux allows it, and pushes forwards to encourage him. 

Ren’s eyes look up, and this time they’re not angry, but hungry. Hux’s hand tightens in his hair, and he swipes his thumb left and right. Pulls and tugs, and makes that pink, plump, pillowy bed spread for him. He thrusts the thumb into his mouth, scraped against teeth (he hopes he has the sense to know when not to do that), feeling for the wet tongue.

The boy _moans_ at the simple penetration, and starts to suckle like it’s a teat and he’s starving. Hux yanks and tugs at his hair, guiding his slurping mouth to how he’d like the contact to go. It’s an audition, because there’s no way he’d let the idiot near his dick until he was sure he knew how to handle it. Knew he wouldn’t just bite it off, and leave him unmanned. Hux guides his head down until his nose hits the side of his palm, and curls fingers in the soft underbelly of his throat, making sure he gulps and swallows prettily.

“You’re pathetic, Ren.”

Kylo agrees, his anger fading by degrees into something... almost pleasant. He moans, and slurps, and when Hux pulls his thumb out, the Knight tries to push his head to Hux’s groin.

Hux allows it for only a moment, slamming his crotch at his face, then pushes him off and away.

“Utterly pathetic.”

Ren leans in again, and Hux kicks him off, turning and walking out of the room.

He’s hard. Furiously hard.

But if this is happening, it’s on his terms. No one else’s.

(He’s also half convinced he’ll die.)

***

The next time they meet, Ren is like a nervous animal. He skitters around, still prickly and growly, but at a distance like he’s trying to weigh him up. Hux acts like nothing happened, aloof and pleased. If Ren’s got the message, and if he stops making his life hell for the hell of it, good.

(He does not think about how those lips looked, blurred to wanting around his hand.)

Really, he should be sensible about this, though. He should know that Ren’s previous bad behaviour was reinforced by the not-tryst, and that of course Ren would then see it as the only way to get what he wants. But he’s not sensible enough until the escalation starts, and he realises – _fuck_. The pissy man in front of him is vying for his attentions all the harder.

(Did no one ever teach him just to _ask_?)

Things go from calm to furious in a matter of an hour, and Hux knows he either has to take the boy in hand and train him not to act out, or he’ll be forever at risk of being undermined in public like this.

Plus.

Maybe it will help him feel better, too. He’s not going to lie and say he has no needs of his own, after all.

***

This time, the order to go to the command suite is answered faster. Hux storms after him, and knows everyone is staring after them. He wonders how many of them expect what’s going to happen next, and he knows that only a few will even consider the possibility of him slapping Kylo around the head, grabbing his wrist, and bending it up and between his shoulderblades.

Of him bending the taller man over the desk, and standing up against his thighs, smashing the mask down into the surface with his other hand, and leaning over his back to growl at his helmet:

“You will _not_ dictate the terms of our relationship. You will _not_ push my hand in public. You will **not** disrespect me like that again, do you hear me? If you do, I will have your sorry ass airlocked by a droid you’ll never see coming.”

Ren squirms under him, his robotic breath laboured and husky. Despite himself, Hux feels his dick hardening in his uniform at the cowed man.

Not... fully cowed. He’s shaking, but almost ready to fight back. He’s on the edge, and Hux has to assert himself properly, if this is going to work.

There’s still no response, so Hux lets go and leaves him there, to see what happens. The boy’s hands twitch, and Hux is gratified that he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t move, doesn’t fight. 

Fuck, but he really does want it, doesn’t he? He needs to be degraded and controlled, and Hux can see infinite possibilities stretching out in front of him. Ren’s pretty, in his own way. Strong, and fierce, and really a force of nature. To control him, to own him, would be such an ego-boost.

It would also help his hungry need, and...

Fuck it.

Hux pulls his cock out, listening to the whimper from the man under him.

“You want this, don’t you?”

His dick is swollen with desire, fierce and bobbing into his hand once he frees it. It definitely wants Ren.

The boy nods, and his hands start to move.

“ _I did not give you permission to move_ ,” Hux barks.

“Sorry, Sir.”

Shit. He’s never heard that word from his lips. ‘Master’, and ‘Leader’ to Snoke, but never ‘Sir’, and definitely not towards him.

“You lie right there. And you’re going to be given your first lesson in obedience. If you want to have a good time, you’re going to do as I say, aren’t you?”

There’s a fierce nodding, and Hux starts to stroke his own cock with brutal, nasty slides of his palm. It’s dry, and rough, and that edge is just perfect. 

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes, _Sir_ ,” the boy bleats out, a tone of terror in his voice. “Sorry, Sir.”

“Tell me what you did wrong today.”

He’s still jerking off, getting off hard at the trembling tone to Ren’s voice, the way he moves his other hand to clasp both behind his back, his masked face turned to one side. “I was badly behaved.”

“How?”

“I was rude to you.”

“And?”

“I...” Ren’s voice breaks. “I tried to make you want me.”

Which did work. But still, Hux isn’t going to allow that. “And what should you have done?”

“...I...”

“You should – and _will_ – ask me respectfully. And I _may_ allow you some time, if you show you’re good, if you obey  me, and if you show me the same respect in public as I demand in private.”

More nodding, and Hux feels the climax like an engine braking, hard. He comes all over Kylo’s robes, white splattering over black, the satisfaction making him smile. It looks good on him, and Hux wonders how it would look over his bare skin.

“Clean yourself up. You will not seek out my attention again. If – and that is _if_ – I choose to offer it, you will know about it.”

He tucks his cock away, zips up, and doesn’t wait for the response.

***

Ren does behave, weirdly. He’s still tense, and Hux can see the way he’s fighting his ‘better’ nature to answer with efficiency and actual solutions whenever they talk.

He _knows_ the crew are confused. He also knows he doesn’t care.

After Ren’s managed a week of this behaviour, he summons the boy to his quarters one night. He’s been trying to ignore the morning boners, and trying to save up his spunk, hoping to get a chance to really use it. It’s made him tetchy and crotchety, but if he doesn’t control himself, how can he hope to lead?

Ren enters, and stays just before the door that shushes them both with its closing.

Hux stands. And waits. And watches.

He doesn’t give any command, wondering what Ren will do without it. Wanting to get a better handle on the man, to understand what he needs to do to get what he wants out of this.

Eventually, Kylo puts his hands up to his mask. Their eyes still meet (or would, if the mask didn’t prevent it), and Hux doesn’t nod, or shake. He waits for Kylo to remove it, and drop slowly to a kneel. One knee, arm over the bent one, and the helmet placed to the side of him. 

His head lowers, his gaze averted, his hair curtaining his face like a four-poster bed. Ren stays down, and Hux paces towards and around him, checking him out from every angle, making him feel every inch of their altered height difference.

“Do you know how to serve a Master, Ren?”

“...the Leader,” is the response.

“I don’t mean the blasted Force. I mean something infinitely deeper, something _much_ more important.”

“No.”

“Do you understand what it is you want from me?”

Ren cowers, cringing, buckling into himself. It’s... almost pathetic, really, isn’t it? He’s such a fucking child. 

“Ren. You’re submissive.”

“I am _not_.”

“You’re on your knees, begging me to control you.”

“I am... n-n—”

Hux puts a hand on his head, stopping the ascent. “You are. You’re a brat. You want someone to take control of you, don’t you?”

Belligerent eyes stare up, red-rimmed and unhappy. The boy doesn’t know himself at all, does he? No wonder he’s a mess of conflicting behaviours and annoying traits. 

“Hux, I’m—“

“I’m going to take control of you. I’m going to give you rules. I’m going to make sure you follow them, and punish you when you don’t.”

Kylo glares, his nose sharpening to a vibroblade point that his eyes stab down. “I don’t need your rules. I have a Master.”

“Then why are you here, when I called for you? And why are you pushing until I pay attention to you?” He grabs a handful of dark hair, pulls it painfully tight, waits for the pupil-blow and lip-part. The boy’s responses are obvious and heady, and Hux is addicted already. “You want this.”

“I... don’t even know what you’re... what...”

“You will do as I say. If you do not do as I say, you will be punished. It won’t just be a slap to the face, it will be something you _don’t_ want. If you do as I say, I might still hurt you, but you’ll love me for it.”

“Hux...”

He lets go, and turns to walk into the next room. His heart is playing a symphony inside of his ribcage, but he knows Kylo has to want this, or it doesn’t work. His naiveté isn’t something he really factored in, so that’s going to make things difficult. 

He’s already in his chair, ready to remove his boots, when Kylo walks awkwardly to the doorway. Hux glances up, and then nods to right before his boots. If Ren wants this, he’s going to have to work for it. 

The boy comes closer, and drops to his knees. Hux smiles, because now he _knows_ he’s won. He’s laid his trap, and Ren has walked willingly into it, ready to beg for attention. Hux crosses one leg over his other, one hand on each knee, and he nods to his boot.

“...you... want me to remove it?”

“I want you to worship it.”

Up go the eyes, and has Ren got any experience at all?

“...how?”

“Use your fingers, your lips. Stroke the leather, and pull it slowly from my foot.” He could mock him some more for his stupidity, but that won’t get him what he wants, and he’s said he’ll give him commands. Time to make good.

Ren looks confused, but his hands come out all the same. He feels for Hux’s calf through the leather, his fingers wandering a little aimlessly. There’s the odd kiss to the toecap, but mostly he’s a moron with no idea how to arouse a man. 

Hux kicks his legs away the moment it’s bared. The boot is placed to one side, and he re-crosses his legs. This time, Ren’s fingers move a little surer, kneading his calf and his toes. It’s oddly pleasant, watching his mind whir behind his eyes as he tries to do as he’s asked. There’s a beauty in the earnest way he’s _trying_ , and Hux smiles with beatific pleasure. They’ll both benefit from this.

Off goes the boot, and then Hux plans his feet on the floor, and spreads his thighs. He watches as Ren wonders, and then looks up. “Should I wait for orders every time, or should I try to work out what you want?”

The question pleases him, and he smiles. “You may ask if I would like something. If you believe it’s obvious what I want, you may try to provide it. If you are not sure, you ask for clarification, or you wait for me to give it.”

Another pause, and Kylo shuffles closer. “Would... you like me to...?”

“To what, Ren?”

His eyes dance over Hux’s groin, then up to his face. Lips suck into his mouth, then pop out. 

“You haven’t asked.”

Making him say it is just as important as making him do it.

“Would you like my mouth?” the boy asks, sullen and awkward. 

“I would like your mouth. Do you know what you’re doing?”

There is a pause before the headshake, and Hux smiles when it comes. Honesty – of the embarrassing kind – is so very, very precious. He leans forwards, and touches his thumb to those lips. 

Kylo shakes, but leans into the touch.

“Do not bite. If you use your teeth at all, be sure it’s gentle. Use your lips, your tongue, and your throat. It _will_ gag you, and it _will_ make you struggle. It still feels good.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Hux opens his own fly, his thumb still plucking at that lower lip as he does so. “Do not worry about choking to death. You’re safe, here. Pay attention to my responses, and you’ll please me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He feels inside his pants, pulling his cock gently out of the fabric prison to stroke it in one hand. He watches as Kylo’s eyes go wide, and realises he never saw his erection, last time. Simply felt the evidence of it over his clothes.

It’s one hell of an ego boost to see the gulp in Ren’s throat, to see the way his eyes track his cock from root to tip, a salivating part of his lips in anticipation. Hux holds his cock and slaps it across Ren’s lips a few times, then sits back to let him work.

Hands go onto his knees as Kylo leans in, and Hux taps on the backs until they move out of the way. There’s an apologetic murmur, and then Ren grabs at his own knees and puts his tongue out to lick. It’s way, way too long and the slight lapping sensation to taste him is gloriously delicate and dainty.

Who would have known the Master of the Knights of Ren could ever be so soft? Hux feels a weird little stab right through him as the tongue laps over his shaft. He’s already pretty hard, but he feels it thud firmer under the gentle caresses, feels his ears thunder with his blood.

“Good boy,” he purrs, and watches as Ren takes the compliment with a shudder down his spine.

The licking gets harder, pushing and prodding, finding places that make his breath catch. He has to hold onto the arms of the chair not to shove the boy down over his shaft, to show him what use his throat can be. 

Ren’s mouth moves over the flare of his cockhead, and Hux holds on tighter still so he doesn’t thrust too much, when he’s not used to it. He needs to know how the boy will react, and how he’ll manage before he abuses him properly. 

And as this is Ren’s first blowjob, he’s not going to make him terrified of them. It would do them both a disservice, and the slightly messy slurps as the boy uses trial and error are too erotic and beautiful to pass by. Hux watches his dick vanish into those full lips, feels the tongue and the wet heat, and purrs in delight as the boy starts to move. He doesn’t take too much to begin with, nervous to get it right, and Hux allows him this moment of acclimatisation.

But not forever.

“Is that the best you can do?”

Irritation flares in the expression below, and the challenge urges him on. Hux beams as Ren starts to bounce his face over his groin, as he takes him deeper and splutters and half-gags over his shaft. Always an ego boost to feel that. To know he’s so big that his lover struggles to take him in, and he moves his hands to curl around the back of Ren’s head. In the curls, in the mop of night-dark hair, and he guides his motions a little faster, a little deeper. Not much, but enough to urge his arousal spike still higher, and send the heat spiralling out through his core.

It’s been a while. He still wants to hold on, to make it last, to show Ren what a good sucking is... but it’s been a while, and those lips are so pretty, those eyes so hopeful, and Hux wants to ride his face into oblivion. He allows himself a moment more, then he pulls Ren’s head faster over his prick.

The throat splutters, trying to keep up, and then there’s a moment when he’s not sure he’ll stay in place, even with the hands in his hair... but then Hux is coming with furious speed, spurting into that broken-panting mouth. The mouth works awkwardly to take his release, swallowing and swallowing and gagging as Hux pulls him til he’s flush with his body. He feels the moment it gets too much, then pulls the boy off his softening dick.

“ _Better_.”

Kylo’s mouth is red and streaked with come. He looks dreamily, dazingly up at him, and Hux swipes his thumb through the slick, liquid gloss.

“Thank you,” Kylo purrs. As he should. As he damn well should.

Hux squeezes one shoulder. “Stay down there.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He puts his cock away, and leans back to bask in the sensation.

And – if he’s honest – to ignore Ren for as long possible. Ren sways on his knees, hard and hungry, and Hux enjoys watching him _burn_.


	2. Chapter 2

Once Ren realises the benefits to their arrangement, his behaviour improves considerably. He does behave better in public, and the few days he starts getting uppity, a short barked command has him checking his actions until they’re somewhere private.

And he suffers so _beautifully_. That’s the best part. He takes every crack of punishment, and needs barely anything after. 

Or so he thinks. Hux still – even if the boy is a brat – makes sure he doesn’t toss him out on his ear when he’s coming down. Still makes sure he’s slowly guided back to safety and makes sure he doesn’t hurt him too much. Ren has no idea of his own limits, and that means it’s his job to keep an eye on them.

Like now. 

He’s spread across the bed, his limbs tethered to the corners, tugged tight like a flesh sheet. Naked and pliant, his hair lightly braided and thrown over one shoulder to reveal his neck and shoulders better. Pale skin that glows, dotted with dark skies like the after-image when you blink away from bright stars on dark skies. 

Tension. From his wrists to his shoulders. From his ankles to his ass. He’s bound and splayed and waiting, his body begging for what his mouth can’t. He wants this, needs it, and Hux is enjoying himself immensely by giving it to him. It’s a release to wind out his own frustrations, to cause some pain and know it’s measured... to be so in control of himself that he can control someone else...

He brings the flogger down, hard. He picked it up a few systems over on a very illicit run for supplies, and it gets used way more than it was probably intended to be. The tails swish soft strokes, and then he cracks the tips down hard enough to raise pink welts, then strokes the pain wider through Ren’s body.

He’s such a pain slut. Really. Hux has never met someone who needed to be hurt as much as Kylo does, and it’s almost worrying, really. Just when Hux thinks for sure he’s gone too hard, too fast, the boy cries out in bliss and _melts_ like he’s butter. He must be wired up wrong, or maybe he’s just fortunate enough to cope with higher levels of it. Could be the training he’s been through? Or could just be his physiology.

Hux cracks him harder, not wanting to cause injury, but wanting to see if there even _is_ a point he’ll say no. He watches Ren writhe and his voice turn from breathy moans to broken breaths. He moves less, and he shakes more, but he never – not once – asks for it to stop.

It’s weird. Hux knows how pain can be pleasure, he understands how endorphins can flood through a body. Time it right, and the natural painkillers will cause a natural high. Drive sensation enough, and a masochist will get off on it, or just... get. If not off. Because it sometimes over-rides the arousal, and that’s just fine, too.

But Ren doesn’t seem to ever get enough pain. Or... he accepts whatever he’s given as enough, but there’s not once he’s begged for it to stop. He didn’t ask him for a safeword, and maybe he should have, but Ren doesn’t even say ‘no’, or ‘stop’, or ‘please no more’. He just thanks him if he says anything at all.

Hux smacks him harder. Ren just takes it. The lashes don’t flay his skin, but they do bring hot, red welts to the surface. He’s going too far, but he’s close to... something? 

Ren’s shoulders shake slightly with silent sobs, and they haven’t spoken in the longest time, and Hux... why is he hurting him this much? What does it prove? That he’s big, that he’s in charge?

“Why do you want me to hurt you so much?” he asks.

“I... I d-don’t...”

He doesn’t want it?

“...know...” sputters out the last word.

Thank fuck. Hux had almost been convinced he’d done too much. He puts the flogger down, and lets his hands stroke over the raw and aching skin. He’s left quite a tapestry this time, and he’s... he just can’t pretend there’s nothing wrong in this.

A little pain, a little punishment, discipline, structure. Those he understands, but Kylo seems to want Hux to destroy him, and that’s going to be a problem. The boy shudders under his hands, and shoves his face back into the bedding.

“No more, tonight,” Hux says, a little softer.

“I... I n-need it...”

“You need to get to where you need to without nearly ending up hospitalised, Ren.”

He strokes up his neck, into the hairline, feeling the faint whisps and the downy trails that aren’t caught in the ponytail braid. Kylo whines like he’s been hurt, pulling with his hands and wrists. “No!”

“No, what?”

“Don’t... don’t do that. I... I need you to _hurt_ me.”

“Ren, your back looks like a raw steak. I’m not beating you any—”

He’s bucking, then, and the room shakes slightly. The _Force_. Ren doesn’t use it in the bedroom, but right now the threat of it looms. Hux is aware, suddenly, that every time he’s been in control it’s been an illusion, of a sort. The boy could wiggle his way out, or Force his way out, if he ever wanted. 

If his mind was there, anyway.

His hand pushes down into Ren’s nape, and he moves to sit astride his ass, keeping him still. 

“I need it!” Kylo yells, and claws with his nails at the bed. “I need it, I need it!”

“You need to _stop fighting_ ,” Hux snaps, pushing down harder and fighting to keep his voice level. 

“Hurt me!” Ren begs.

This is not helpful. This is so not helpful. All that agony and he’s not nearly there, not today. It’s escalating every time, and eventually he’s going to need something Hux isn’t prepared to give. There’s more to this than a normal need to submit, and it’s peeking around the edges of the door, dark light seeping out to caress his ankles.

“Why do you think you need it to hurt?”

Ren won’t answer, and he bores his face into the bed, screaming out his frustration. It’s alarming, and when it’s over, he pulls hold of the braid and tugs his head back away from the mattress. 

“Why?”

“It’s... who I am.”

“How do you know?”

“ _He_...”

He. The tone says only one voice. _Snoke_. Hux sits back on his calves, and wonders what the fuck to do with that. _He_. One word, and it says so much more. 

Ren thinks he should have the pain. Hell, he even wants it, but it’s the ‘deserving’ bit that has him worried. This isn’t just sexual release, it’s bizarre Force things, and Hux hasn’t worked out what that means, yet.

“...Hux? Master?”

“Ren... I’m going to untie you.”

“No!” He bucks, then, trying to get Hux off his back.

“I’m going to untie you, because we need to talk about this when you’re—”

Something slams into the wall, shattering, and Hux feels a little afraid. This isn’t what he signed up for, but he’d gone into it, and now he has to deal with the consequences. He puts a hand on the back of the boy’s neck, and lies his weight over him.

“Listen to my voice,” he says, trying to keep the tremor out. “I am not going to hurt you any more _tonight_. Tonight. I’m going to bring you down slowly, and we’ll work on this.”

Ren screams at the top of his lungs, and starts to writhe under him like he’s terrified, and Hux knows he’s doing the right thing, even if the boy doesn’t realise it. A little pain and titillation and the freedom from making decisions is one thing, but this is something massively more complicated. And he does _not_ want to fuck it up. Even if he could beat the hell out of him until he collapsed, and get thanked for it.

He... damnit. He wants to work out what’s going on, and how to work on this going forwards. He also isn’t ready to be bullied into hurting him. If this happens, it happens on his terms.

“ _Hurt me_ ,” Ren begs, as he smothers over his back. “Hurt me, please, fuck... _please_. I’m begging you.”

“Stop. Fighting.”

“I c-can’t, I—” 

There’s horror in that tone, horror that Hux doesn’t find at all attractive. It’s not arousing, and it’s not the kind of thing that’s pleasurable to cause. This is a need that isn’t sexual in the slightest, and he unfastens the wrist restraints, pulling Ren’s hands lower, gripping the backs of them as he lies flat out.

“I’ve got you.”

“ _No, no no no no no—_ “

“It’s okay. Shh. Ren. _Kylo_. I’ve got you. It’s okay.” He kisses at his nape, stroking with his fingers and thumbs, trying to radiate calm into the boy underneath him. 

“ _Please, please, please, I need it, I need it..._ _I’ll be good, I promise, I promise I’ll be better, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”_

Hux nuzzles very softly, shhing and holding him, using his whole body to blanket the cowering wretch under him. He shouldn’t have pushed so hard, he went over what was sensible, and this is the aftermath. 

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t need to apologise to me, Ren. You did nothing wrong.”

A bitter laugh bubbles under him. “T-this?”

“It’s not wrong. You’re just processing too much. I shouldn’t have pushed you this far, this fast.”

It’s his mistake, not Kylo’s. He understands that, and he kisses him more gently, across one side of his neck to the other. Slow, non-threatening rocks of their bodies together, grounding him in the lack of pain, trying to calm him back down again. It was a ridiculous error of judgement, and he can’t conscience himself for it.

“I need it,” Kylo says, his voice a little less fraught. He’s cooling, slowly, under him. The tension eking out, the fight going out of his body. 

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

The admission is honest, and he slides his hands over his arms, up and down, up and down. “Does what we normally do help?”

There’s a little nod.

“But not enough?”

Kylo freezes. He doesn’t want to criticise, but he’s...

“You can tell me.”

“...s-sometimes. Sometimes I need... _more_.”

Alright. He kisses again, and feels the boy shake at the softer touches. “We can work with that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be.”

“But—”

“I accept that you feel guilt, and I forgive you,” Hux tries, instead. Telling him not to feel it isn’t working. Reassuring him might work better. “Your body can take a lot, but that doesn’t mean we should give it everything it can handle. We can find ways to get the sensation you crave without injury.”

The boy nods, minutely. “Okay.”

“I’m going to untie you, now. Your ankles. I’m not going anywhere away. I’m going to stay with you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

He turns, pulling them free. Kisses to his inner ankle, hands on his calves. Ren’s body is still strung out, still full of sharp pains and twitches, and he lies back on top of him, covering him. “I’ve got you. See? It’s okay. You did good. You did so good for me, boy.”

“H-how?”

“You were honest,” he says, with a stab of pride. “You showed me something private, didn’t you?”

Under him, he shakes some more. Hux rewards the emotional openness with more kisses. 

“Yes, Master.”

“If you’re honest with me, I can give you what you need. I can make you feel good. Can’t I?”

Another shudder, and he feels Kylo part his legs. Just a subtle little thing, but it’s there. Despite himself, a shock of pleasure jolts through him at the movement.

“Yes, Master.”

“So tell me, boy. What is it you _really_ want, right now? Not what you think I want you to want, but what _you_ need. Do you know?”

“W-want... to please you, Sir.”

“And?”

It’s cruel, in a way, to force him to think when he’s bodily wrought. But Hux wants Ren to know what he wants, as much as he needs to know for himself. He needs Ren to understand, and... when did this turn into any more than just angry lust and a free space for sadistic control?

Shit.

“...w-want... you... you’ve never...”

Another wiggle of his ass, hopeful and slow.

They’ve been doing this for some time, but it’s true. Mostly Hux has finished over his face, in his mouth, or over his chest. Kylo’s had significantly less in the way of sexual release, at least in person. He just hasn’t fucked him, although he’s used toys and his hands on the boy’s ass. He was keeping their first fuck for something special, something worthy of it. Ren has such a nice ass that he really wanted to appreciate it, and to make him earn the treat of a good, hard, thorough fuck.

But he sort of has earned it, now, hasn’t he? He’s been such a good boy, despite all his – somewhat terrifying – issues. He’s done everything Hux has asked for, and frankly... 

His only concern is doing it now. Kylo’s not in the right frame of mind to consent to much of anything, not if he’s begging to be wounded. He’s fairly sure the boy would consent at any other moment, and so it’s not that he’ll regret it, after... and maybe he wouldn’t be able to _ask_ , even if he wanted, if he hadn’t been so broken down.

“Say it aloud.”

If he wants it, he can ask properly.

“P-please... will... will you... fuck me?”

“Is that what you want?”

Furious nodding.

“Do you want it more than the pain?”

There’s a moment – one perfect moment – where Kylo’s brain obviously stops functioning entirely. He can’t conceive of the answer, can’t work out which thing is more compelling to him. Hux waits for him to come to his conclusion, and punctuates the pause with one solitary, whisper-soft kiss.

“...yes, Sir.”

“You want me to fuck you out of your mind, don’t you? Want me to drive all the need for pain out. Drive all the worry out. Make your body free and floaty.”

The groan is _bliss_. “ _Yes, Sir. Please, Sir_.”

Hux sits slowly, and slides hands over the boy’s arms, shoulders, flanks. Pushes his thumbs into the dip at the base of his spine. Presses in hard. “You want me to fuck you so hard you know you’re mine, don’t you?”

He’s never really said as much before, never made an overt claim to ownership. He’s been tempted to – so very, very badly – but he’s held back. The way Kylo’s body curves below him, he’s wanted it, too.

Hux is sure Ren isn’t sleeping around. He just isn’t the type. He has many redeeming qualities, many that are the exact opposite, but he doesn’t have the ‘cheat’ on you vibe. It just doesn’t click with him at all, and Hux doesn’t know why he’s so convinced, but he is.

It’s also not like Hux himself wants to play the field. The dating pool for a General of his calibre is already small enough, and...

He just considered them an item, didn’t he? And wasn’t immediately disgusted. Ren was an obedient submissive, vocal and appreciative, and he made Hux’s bedtime sports so much more fun. But more than that, he was... sort of... growing fond of him. And seeing things he’d never seen before, nor ever conceived of as possible. 

He wanted him.

There.

Maybe not forever, but right now... he thinks he does. And so he sluices his thumbs to pull Kylo’s cheeks apart. The boy keeps himself properly clean before he comes to play, and Hux rewards him for it by licking a stripe between his cheeks.

It makes him _howl_ , and spread his thighs wider. Fuck, but that’s hot. He tugs buttocks wide, revealing the dusky pink strip and hole, and licks just once over it. “You think you can handle a fucking, now, boy?”

Kylo nods like his life depends on it. “Please. I – I want to be yours. I want it so bad.”

Hux drags his thumb where it wants to go, and nods. “Get a pillow under your hips. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly.”

More nodding, and he scuffles to obey. He also grabs the lube from the bedside table, which is an unexpected level of foresight. Hux rewards him by poking his tongue inside of him as he slops out the lube, leaving Kylo panting and rocking on his knees as he gets into position.

The boy is used to it, so the first finger slips in without any problem. He knows Ren will try to hurry him faster than is wise, so he puts his other hand on the small of his back to still him as he fucks his tight hole wider. “Good, good boy. You’re going to take it, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Master,” he breathes. “Please. I want it. I want you.”

He wasn’t supposed to go and _feel_ things. Other than penis things. But hearing him beg like that, hearing the open adoration and adulation... it stokes a fire in his belly, and he shunts the second finger in, spearing them wide and pounding at his ass, watching it gulp them down like it’s already his cock. 

“ _Please_ ,” Kylo whispers, clawing at the sheets, shoving his hips up higher. “Want to be yours. Just yours. Only yours.”

Again, that coiling possessiveness, like an angry snake hissing in his core. Hux slams the third finger in, hits him with his hand until he’s howling, and then crooks them inside his body. “You want that? You want to belong to me?”

More nodding, and a bleated: “Yes.”

“You want to be _mine_ , mine to do with as I will? No matter what?”

More, more nodding. A whimper, and Kylo submits with a little shimmy of his hips. He’s utterly gone, and Hux knows it.

“Then I’ll _take_ you,” he growls. “And I’ll make sure you _know_ you’re mine, now. Only for me. **Only** for me.”

“Yes, yes...” Softer, almost inaudible. 

The boy is going under, and Hux is relieved. He’d worried he’d broken things, earlier. Worried he’d made it impossible to finish the scene. He pulls his fingers out, holding his dick with them, sliding it between his cheeks to torment him further.

“Please... _Master_ , please...”

He’s going to have to continue, before Kylo goes so deep he won’t remember their first time. The first push in is the best part. The moment when his lover’s (?) body parts just enough to let him in, right before he holds hips and slides himself home. All the way in, holding that position for long, long moments. 

It feels... so good. So warm. So welcoming. Kylo shivers, and Hux’s hands move to better keep him there. “Such a good boy,” he praises. “You’re taking it all. Taking it all so well.”

Weirdly, Ren blossoms under those praising words as much as he does under the shaming ones. He’s surprised that both seem to work, and that’s something to file away for later use. He’s destroyed him so utterly today, though, that he needs to build him back up, first.

“Feels... good...” Ren mumbles, dreamily. “Oh... m-more?”

He beams, and starts the slow business of sliding his prick in and out. Feeling the pulsing tightness around him, the breathing, the slick squirm, the grip that makes his eyes roll up. He’d never expected he’d fuck Ren slow and sweet, that he’d already be a boneless mess under his affections. But here he is, taking him like he has to be careful he doesn’t shatter. Enjoying the sighs and moans, just as much as the sensation in his lap. Rut, rut, twist, rut. 

Weirdly, even after the emotion of before, their rocking isn’t fast and furious. It’s slow and sweet, and Kylo moans at the subtle penetration. The angle lets him in deep, but the power behind it is restrained, coiled.

“Going to take care of you,” Hux promises. “Now you’re my responsibility. Going to take care of my boy.”

Ren comes – embarrassingly fast. Just from the fucking, and Hux isn’t even giving it his all. The offer of protection is enough to get him over the edge, and Hux pinches his hips tight, riding him hard through the aftershocks. 

“Yours,” Ren whispers. “All yours. All yours.”

Hux takes him, then, until the pleasure is too much; grunting and sheathing himself to the hilt as he comes. Ren purrs below him, and Hux collapses to kiss more at the boy’s neck, over to his jaw. His climax is almost an after-thought, a relaxation once he’s spent inside of him, and he’s left with a spreading sense of fondness and satisfaction. 

He doesn’t remember ever feeling this close to someone, no matter what they just did. It’s like his sense of where he ends has spread, and he’s a large, warm blanket curling around the shaking Knight, and when Kylo’s head turns, it’s only natural to kiss him on the lips.

They’ve never done that before, either. He’s had his dick touching the back of his throat, and he’s tongued the boy’s ass, but they’ve never really swapped saliva. Lying flat out over his back, their hands tangle up as they make out. His cock softens by degrees inside, and Hux is fucking doomed.

He’s only gone and developed _feelings_.

Shit. He has feelings for the most broken and contradictory piece of ass the First Order ever saw, but as he opens up like the finest chocolates under foil at his touch... yeah. Flickers of mouth and the sense of peace on the outbreath.

Ren feels just as much, and that’s terrifying to know. 

The kiss breaks, and Hux places his face, ear-to-ear on the boy’s head. “Better?”

“ _Yes, Master_ ,” he whispers.

A fierce, fierce, angry demon in his chest. “You’re mine, now. Mine. And I’m going to make it all work out for you. Do you understand?”

“ ** _Yes, Master_**.” 

So much for hate sex. He’s... there’s... 

There’s more to this. Hux didn’t sign up for that. He didn’t sign up for a submissive with more issues than a Stormtrooper manual, but he should have realised when he brought him to his bed that he was more than just a willing body. 

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The kisses give way to nuzzling, to affectionate bonding touches. He can’t help himself, and he isn’t sure if it’s because Ren needs someone to look out for him, or if it’s because he feels so flattered to be given so much trust, or just... that he... likes him. For who he is. And wants him happy. And wants to stop that self-destructive rage, or hold him through the pangs of pain-wanting. 

Why did he have to go and feel things? It’s... the endorphins. Really.

It’s not that he – not that... it’s... important or...

Hux holds on tight.  Ren drifts below him, and Hux... _knows he wants to help him_. It’s so alien a feeling, and so intense all the same. 

He’s going to do it. He is. 


	3. Chapter 3

For the first night, Ren stays in his bed. There’s no way you can kick a man out after breaking him to pieces, then fucking him tenderly. No matter what this is – or isn’t – Hux has an understanding of what’s right and wrong, and that would be beyond wrong. 

Ren goes all fluffy and cuddly once they’re done, clinging to him and burrowing against his chest. He doesn’t even mind the fact he’s in the damp patch, which Hux is grateful for. They tangle up in knots, and he shushes him through his non-verbal gratitude and apology, stroking him until he falls asleep.

When he’s under, Hux has time to think. 

He’d thought Kylo just liked pain to a regular amount. Thought maybe he – like so many of the Order’s loyal servants – craved the freedom from decisions that came with giving up control. But now he’s beginning to wonder if it’s more than that in Ren’s case. He doesn’t actually know all that much about him (and he never thought to ask), but he’s beginning to wonder.

Ren has his Knights, who he doesn’t ever speak fondly about. He doesn’t speak unfondly of them, either. He doesn’t speak at all.

At all. About anything that interests him. They talk about work, and very little else. Even in bed, Ren’s been focussed on the task and not any kind of small-talk. He has no real connections with people, and... what? 

He was once someone else, once one of _them_ , and then he turned up – seemingly unannounced – to become the Leader’s best and brightest?

Something about this just... doesn’t add up. Not that Hux thinks Ren was wrong to switch sides (anything but), it’s just that... there’s a lot that he doesn’t know, or understand, and that makes him feel uncomfortable. 

He’s avoided the Force as much as he can. It’s something he’ll never be able to use, and as such it’s been a constant source of irritation to him. He doesn’t like things he can’t control, and this is one of them. But if he wants to make this work – and that’s a big if – he’s going to need to understand some more of it, isn’t he?

The man in his arm shivers, and Hux pulls the covers up tighter around them both.

***

In the morning, Kylo looks confused, then terrified. His brown eyes flash upwards to see the reprimand, but Hux puts his hand on his hip. 

“I allowed you to stay.” He hadn’t said so at the time, but he’s saying it retrospectively, now.

“I’m... I shouldn’t have...”

Hux shushes at him. “I said it’s okay.”

The boy has no ability to conceal his emotions from his face. Hux likes that. It means whatever he can see, is real. Ren’s subterfuge lies in his mask, not in his real face. With other people, the mask is intangible, and you never know when it’s in place.

“I didn’t... mean to get so upset.”

“You did. But it’s okay... I wanted to push you, too.”

His incisors pull at his lip, and his nose wrinkles. “Thank you for not kicking me out.”

It’s pathetic, in a way. That he could be sincere about not having to do the walk of shame after getting flayed raw and fucked blind for the first time, and here they are. His fingers slide over his cheek, down to his shoulder, dipping into the pink scar tissue there.

“We need to talk about this.”

As predicted, Kylo flinches back. Hux’s fingers tighten, and he waits for his eyes to lift again.

“Hux...”

“You don’t have to tell me anything about before. But we’re going to come up with some form of communication strategy, so we both can see how far you are, and what you need.”

“...I... it’s okay, you can do whatever...”

His fingers grab his chin. “It isn’t okay. I’m not going to cause you lasting harm, not when there’s ways to hurt you that you can still walk away from. But if you want this to go deep, we need to be open with one another.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Hux has never had to handle boundaries before, but then, it had always been one-off events, instead of a series of repeated, prolonged sessions. He’d expected there’d be a screamed begging to stop if he wasn’t smart enough to know the line was there himself, but this...

“Kylo... what do you want pain for?”

The man tries to squirm, but Hux holds him still.

“It feels good.”

“When did you learn this?”

Ren squirms, and Hux grabs the back of his neck, pulling his forehead to his own. He waits, letting him calm down. There’s no easy way to interrogate a submissive gently. Any pressure you put on them is felt a hundredfold, and your position of authority makes every question a demand. 

“D-don’t... I mean... the Leader. He... taught me that pain was useful. Useful for... power. For the Dark Side.”

Yep. Force shit. Hux has no idea if it’s accurate or not. “Only for the Dark Side? So not before you joined him?”

“He... reached out to me when... I was still... there. Before I knew. It is how I found out the truth.”

Hux frowns. “How old were you, when you were contacted?”

A shrug. “I don’t know. But he taught me I could use pain, and so I did. Only... it got to be that I couldn’t hurt enough, any more.”

“Kylo...”

“Yes?”

“ _How. Old. Were. You_.”

“I... don’t remember? I... know they sent me to the Jedi when I was ten, because I was already... difficult.”

Ten. Ten, and he’d learned to ‘use’ pain. Hux feels a little sick. Ten. Ren isn’t that age any more, and it’s perfectly fine for an adult to do this. After all, he likes the occasional pull to his hair, or stomp on his balls, but...

“Why do you _need_ the pain?”

“Because... it’s... always been there.” 

Always. Hux doesn’t fully understand what that means. He’s always thought – for himself – that pain was just an intense stimulation, or a way to break down a barrier for a while. A quick way to a heightened state of mind, and a counterpoint to make the pleasure all the brighter, like coming into the light after too long in the pitch black. Control and a lack of it he understands. Physical stimulation he understands. Even – on one level – shame and praise. But Ren wants... a lot more than he’s sure he can give him.

“What about when I can’t hurt you enough? Or it’s finally too far?”

 _Then it will be over_.

The thoughts echo in his head, and that’s just – not acceptable. He leaps onto him, grabbing at his throat with both hands. “What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“ _I heard it_.” He did. In the boy’s voice, right in his head. He pushes down, choking at his throat. “Is that what you’re really aiming for?”

“ _No_.”

He pushes down one last, long time. Ren doesn’t even try to fight him off, just grabs at the sheets on either side of him. 

“Why don’t you want to live?”

“I _do_ ,” Ren argues. “But I also _don’t_.”

“You want it to hurt so much... that it stops hurting?” 

“I don’t know, okay? I’m sorry. I don’t know. I just... I didn’t even know it _could_ feel like this, and then you went and showed me, and... now I just... I want it.”

‘It’. Nebulous, and unformed. Pain. Control. Sex. Whatever they are. 

Hux nods. “We need to be more sensible about this, or I do. You... are more involved than people I have done this with in the past.”

“No previous Dark Siders, huh?” His joke is weak, but there.

“No. No previous Dark Siders.”

“But you... like this, too?”

Hux snorts. “Do you think I would do this if I didn’t? Just because you’re difficult, doesn’t mean you’re not worth the effort.”

He really hadn’t expected the compliment to go to his head, but from the look on Ren’s face... when was the last time anyone actually said something praising him? Maker, he’s a fuck up, isn’t he? Hux isn’t sure if he was born that way, or if his parents fucked him over, or what. But you shouldn’t...

...what would _he_ feel like if...?

“I’ll be a good boy,” he promises. “I’ll do what you tell me to do. If you need me to... need less...”

“That isn’t what I said.”

“...but you think I need too much?”

“I think we need to find ways to get you to the edge without damage,” Hux clarifies. “And you’re going to need to be honest with me, while we work out what’s best. If you can’t promise me you’ll be open and honest, then we can’t do this. If it’s going to be what you _need_ , then you owe me that.”

He watches the convulsive swallow, and then leans in to kiss at his lips. Just once, just softly. 

“I can make you feel incredible, if you let me.”

There’s such hope on his face that Hux’s insides _melt_.

This was the best plan in the world.

***

After some lazy, early-morning sex, in which Hux ordered Kylo into the shower and held him into the spray to fuck him again, they’d both redressed and gone about their separate duties for the day. Ren had not stopped smiling all the way until his helmet was put on, and... Hux kind of liked that.

Which was odd.

Because... it just was. It wasn’t the sex making him broody, it was... something he hadn’t yet put his finger on. 

And he’d put his fingers on almost every inch of the boy’s body, by now, so...

“Lieutenant,” he snipped down the comm line.

“Sir?” came Mitaka’s ever-reliable voice.

“Do you recall the dossier you did on the Force when Lord Ren was first stationed with us?”

“Y-yes, Sir?”

“I would like an updated version. And I would also like... deep backgrounds done on the Resistance Generals Organa and Solo.” He does not say: ‘and their son, Ben’, but he knows that Mitaka will read between the lines. Ben Organa-Solo’s name is forbidden throughout the Order, and Hux hasn’t even had cause to think it in all the years they’ve known one another, not since the first three months, or the few after the Starkiller incident. 

If he’s doing this, he needs to know every. Little. Detail. 

It’s how he controls the situation. He has to be briefed, so he can be fore-warned, and so he can be prepared for whatever’s thrown his way. And so he can be prepared to argue the point down in the most minute of details if he needs to.

Because.

***

That night, Kylo comes to his rooms as asked, and drops respectfully to his knee the moment the doors shut. His hands clasp, his head bowed, and he’s the complete model of servile obedience. 

Hux has been teaching him the basics, but even so, watching the tall, strong man fold up and offer the back of his neck like this sends a shiver through him. 

“Boy... you are going to pick two words for me.”

“Sir?”

“One will be for when you’re getting close to not being comfortable. It will not stop things, but it will alert me that you’re near the edge. If anything, I’ll work _harder_ to keep you on that edge or the right side, so it is _important_ that you use it, until I know your limits. Do you understand?”

“...I think so.”

It’s an honest answer, so he accepts it for now. “What word will you use?”

“Uh...” 

Maybe he should have briefed him in advance?

“Saber?”

“If that works for you, then yes. If you feel unable to say it alone, you work it into a short sentence. Agreed?”

Ren nods.

“And the second word I need – this one is _vital_ – if you use it, I **will** stop. It does not mean you fucked up. It does not even need to mean I fucked up. But we _will_ work out what’s going on, and we _will_ make sure it ends properly, or as well as we can manage. Do you understand this?”

“...safeword?”

“You’ve been researching.”

Kylo nods, and Hux is oddly pleased that the boy’s got the initiative and sense to look into things, too. Hux has to admit he’s needed to look into some guides for more intense play ideas, but he’s been titillated by them, more than anything else.

“I know what it is.”

“You do?”

“You will know if I say it. I don’t want to say it.”

“How will I know?”

Kylo’s eyes bore into him. “You will, Master.”

This isn’t normal practice, but Hux thinks they’re not normal, either. He didn’t even ask for a safeword their first few times (he had only expected rough, but fulfilling sex), and now the boy has one he won’t even share. 

Still. He has the Force. If nothing else, there’s never going to be a physical chance of hurting him too much. Only a psychological chance. 

***

Ren likes pain to the point of injury. Whilst a little is fine, repeated and excessive damage will reduce his effectiveness, and also increase the chances of losing him out in the field. It’s like cake. You can love cake and want to eat it every day, but eventually, you ran the risk of getting round. 

So you either find a recipe with less sugar, or you vary your diet, and find new desserts that are less fattening, but just as good.

It’s incredibly flattering to witness how utterly Ren trusts him, but also sort of terrifying. Why is he so ready to trust a man who sent him back to his room covered in come and still hard for weeks on end? Although Ren obviously _liked_ being sent back wanting, so maybe he should look into denial and delay, too. 

His Knight stands naked and shivering, because Hux is enough of a bastard to have altered the thermostat to cold. He’s still dressed, and he can feel the air cut over his cheekbones, so he can only imagine how it feels to the boy.

“I’m going to take your senses from you,” he says, as he paces around his naked form. 

The boy has his hands cupping his genitals, more for warmth than for chaste reasons. Hux allows it for the moment, because it also gives a goal to work towards. He admires the silvery skin, the pink-raw marks on the backs of his thighs from the cropping last night. Only a few had landed enough to last, but those few had been enough to make him scream. 

“Yes, Master.”

He’s still in his gloves, and he knows depriving Ren of his actual fingertips will urge him higher. He pulls the boy’s hair into a clip at his neck, and then lifts the silk blindfold into place. It’s knotted tightly, and his hands rest on Ren’s shoulders.

“Can you see through it?”

“...only light around the edges, not enough to—”

He tightens it. 

“...nothing now, Sir.”

Blocking out the light is more than a little symbolic, after all. So it has to be done right. 

“Hands in front of you, wrists together, hands in fists.”

He obeys at once, and Hux smiles. He grabs the first length of rope, and makes the simple cuff first, so it won’t cut any circulation off, then winds the cord up in figure-eights, up until the elbows touch. Ren doesn’t fight once, though he does stagger his breathing a little. Hux finishes, then – with the help of a pole – hitches them over the pulley he’s had installed in the ceiling. With some effort, he hoists the boy’s wrists over his head, putting strain from shoulder to cuff. 

“Why is the Darkness superior?” he asks, as he stands back and leaves Ren blind and bound. 

“...Sir?”

“Why?”

“I don’t understand...”

“You thought it was enough to leave your family behind. You’re loyal to the Leader, not the Order. So what is it?”

Yes, it’s brusque; and yes, it’s tactless, but he wants the shock of it to force something – anything – out of him. 

Ren squirms, his legs crossing, and Hux sees the way his body goosefleshes between the questions and cold. His nipples perk sharply like two little snubby starfighters breaking orbit, and his shoulders wobble in the air. 

“It is stronger.”

“How so?”

His head whips towards the sound, and Hux can feel the glower. 

“It _is_.”

Hux can do a lot with his hands. He can push his nails into the space above the jut of hip-bones, can scratch pink lines up and over his flanks. Can grab his nipples, pulling them harshly then letting go. 

“It! It is! It... it’s emotion! It’s... _power_! Hux, I—you wouldn’t understand...”

That stings, but he has to remain in control. “Try me.”

Ren sways, his head turning even though his eyes are sightless. His cocksucker lips part, and he whimpers. “Master, please don’t—”

“Don’t what? Ask my boy a question and expect an answer? Maybe I should just leave you to—”

“NO!”

He doesn’t punish the outburst, his fingers back to rub over the abused nubs. “Tell me.”

“It...” Kylo swallows. “Emotion. It is... natural. And... I feel it. And I don’t... the Jedi want you to control, to not feel. I... couldn’t.”

“Not ever?”

“...they said there was a time, but I was too young.” 

“And since then?”

“...I... feel. Anger. Joy. I feel... and it fuels me.”

“It also fuels you into destroying my ship and getting yourself resoundingly punished,” Hux points out. 

“Joy,” Ren offers, with a very, very shy smile. 

Little shit, Hux thinks. He slaps his cheek, and it doesn’t wipe the smile off, makes it bigger, if anything. 

“Why do you want to know?” Kylo asks. “What... does it matter?”

“I want to own _all_ of your overgrown ass, and that means the Force, too.” It’s partially true. Or, it is true. It’s just not the whole truth. 

Kylo nods, and his weight sways again, obviously unbothered by the catch of his hands above his head. “I didn’t feel... right. There. I couldn’t... I wasn’t ever going to _be_ what they wanted. I... I’m too broken, for that. I’m too...” A little laugh. “Too much Vader in me, he used to say. Too much... anger, fear...”

He’s starting to tear up, so Hux ghosts his fingers over bare collarbones. “Anger and fear are normal.”

“Not for fucking _Jedi_ ,” he spits, pulling at his wrists. “Not for my _uncle_. And if I wasn’t broken, then I’d be **normal** like my parents, but I’m _not_.”

He’s getting worked up, and running the risk of needing to be cut down and let loose by the minute. Hux knows this is a dangerous line, and one he’s going to have to tread many, many times.

“They don’t know what they missed out on,” he tells him. “You’re not like them, you’re like _you_. Not even like your grandfather.”

“ _And look how fucked up that is_?”

Hand over his throat, holding tight. He feels the swallowing below, and he stares him down through a visor that really won’t translate the image. “You’re my fuck up, now. So I get to decide whether it’s good enough, or not. Don’t I?”

Ren nearly explodes with the vibrations passing through him, the anger he’d mentioned swelling up. Who is it really directed at, Hux wonders? He doubts it’s all at him. He suspects it’s a multitude of people. 

“Yes. Sir.”

“If the Dark is good, then what I make you feel... adds to your power.”

A pause. He hadn’t thought of that. A nod. “Yes. Sir.”

“Then I’m going to control you, and then the Force.”

“That isn’t how the Force works!”

He pushes his nails in. “Isn’t it? If you control the Force, and I control you?”

The argument is too hard for his upset mind, and Hux knows he’s on the edge, now. He’s going to have to fight, and if Kylo had his wits about him, he’d mention his saber right about now. 

A longer pause.

“Yes.”

No honorific, but he’s edging to the line, and things up in the ante department. 

“You want to feel, but you need to feel when it’s appropriate. You need to feel, but inside. Not explode out, and break things. That’s wasting your energy and power.”

“Can’t... _not_.”

“Yes. You can.”

“ _Can’t. Not._ ”

Hux pushes up under his jaw. “You can. You will. You will learn to use the power inside, and not on my ship, or my crew.”

“Fuck _you_.”

Hux smacks him across the cheek, and stands back. Kylo screams and pulls, and this time he’s not gone into begging for pain, but ready to claw his eyes out. He’d read that might happen, that he might turn vicious when he was threatened enough. 

(And yes, there’s an element to wondering what it would be like to switch things around... but he wouldn’t trust Ren with that kind of responsibility, when he can’t even control himself.)

“ _What did you say_?”

“I **said** : fuck you!”

Hux grabs the paddle, and swings for Ren’s ass. He does it once, sharply, right across the buttock. 

Ren screams, and Hux slaps the other side. The paddle will do no more than make him throb a little in the morning, but right now it will hurt like fuck. The leather greets him like a lover’s hand, and Hux waits for the hissing vitriol to fade. 

“You don’t like to admit you don’t have control. You don’t like to admit I’m _right_. That your outbursts are unhelpful, and childish.”

“FUCK YOU, HUX.”

He paws at the floor, and Hux grabs his bound hair and yanks it back. “You wanted this. You wanted _this_. You knew I could give you what he couldn’t. You knew it, and you craved it.”

“I JUST WANTED TO GET FUCKED, YOU FUCK.”

“If you wanted that, you could have had any number of people, maybe even me.” He’s winning, and weirdly... he doesn’t feel glib or smug. He just feels satisfied, and not upset himself. Normally a screaming person would make him want to scream right back... but this is something new, and pleasant. It’s a calm inside of himself, a calm he has to find for both of them.

“Let me **go**.”

“No, Ren.”

“Let me _go_.” 

He’s wriggling, and Hux lets him for long moments, then grabs his hips to still his writhing. The fight is high in his body, and Hux has to bring him over the top safely. “I’m going to give you what you need, Ren.”

More fighting, and Hux moves to stand behind him. He wraps his arms around him from behind, and takes every buck, every hiss, every kick. He has to let Ren know he’s not going to run away, no matter how hard he pushes, and he nudges his lips to the nape of his neck. 

“You can’t! No one can! Not Luke, not Snoke, not anyone!”

“I can. I will.”

“ _No no no no no—fuck— **saber**_.”

So close. So close. He hugs him with all his might, and nuzzles and kisses, shushing the angry, upset child back down to calm. “I’ve got you, Ren.”

“ _Let me go let me go let me go—“_

More shuddering, and Hux strokes over his chest. It’s amazing to him, that he could get the boy this close to breaking point with nothing but minor restraint and words. With nothing but psychological trickery, and he feels the panic make him tense and kick.

“I’ve **got you** ,” he says, firmer. “It’s okay. You can feel, here. I give you permission to feel. But I’ll control it for you.”

Kylo _screams_ , then. The scream of someone in terror, in absolute distress. He fights until he can’t, and Hux remains plastered to his back, nuzzling at him.

The screams give way to gurgles. Give way to whimpers. Sobs. Snotty-nosed cries. The boy is spilling salt down his cheeks, and Hux holds him through them until every last noise is gone.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, hoarsely.

“You have nothing to apologise for.” It’s becoming patently obvious to him, and now he’s getting angry. Not with Ren, but with everyone for leaving him like this. So wounded inside that he walks on broken bones, his bare feet picking around shattered glass. He’s angry that they played tug-of-war over him, and didn’t care how frayed he got in the process.

Hux is angry, alright. But he’s not angry with Ren. Not one bit.

Eventually, he calms down just enough.

“I’m going to help you,” he promises, again. “You’re going to let me.”

“Yes,” the boy whispers, wrecked and almost emptied for now. “Please.”

“I’m going to wrap your body tight, and you’re going to remember that, whenever you can’t keep it all in. You’re going to remember the feeling of my hands on you, and you’re going to remember how I control you.”

Dubious, he nods. It’s not blind obedience, but it’s close.

Hux steps back, and fetches the rope.


	4. Chapter 4

If Hux is going to pull away old coping mechanisms (faulty as they are), he can’t do it without offering some alternative, without giving the boy some safety-net. Although the other two Masters – Snoke and Skywalker – likely used entirely different methods, Hux has to improve upon their handling of Kylo or he will forever be this broken mess he is now.

The boy breathes slower, his eyes still covered and his wrists bound and raised. Hux’s fingers slide over him, feeling for the shifts in his mood, in his body. He strokes up and to his neck, hands wrapping around his throat but not choking in. Just to feel him swallow below, to remind Ren that he could snap or suffocate at any moment.

And he chooses _not_ to.

“I think... your throat would look beautiful under my collar. What do you think, boy?”

The soft sigh says everything, and Hux gently pulls the boy’s head back, so he can kiss at the curve of his throat. It would look beautiful, stark and sure. He could get one that would fit under his ridiculous uniform, but would forever stand there as a promise of his protection, ownership, and care.

“ _Yes_.”

The lack of an honorific isn’t an insult, but it is an oversight. And one he has to correct. “What was that? What should you call me?”

“Yes, _Sir_ ,” Kylo corrects himself, swallowing even harder. 

But there’s no fear, not now. Not in his tone at being reprimanded – even if gently – and not for the hands that threaten and promise so much. He’s utterly under, and it’s beautiful to witness. Barely any pain, just the psychological pressure, and the boy trusts him so implicitly as to give up.

Hux takes up the next section of rope, passing it around his throat and knotting it with a non-noosing collar. It won’t slip tighter, and it will slide if need be. He starts to pass the rope down in front of him, tying more knots a fist’s distance away, keeping the two strands parallel.

Down to the boy’s groin, and he carefully parts the strands here. Loops around his thighs, and then around to his back. Up to the collar, feeding through, shoring it off. Now comes the fun part.

“How does it feel?”

“Good. Sir. Good.”

“Not too tight?”

A shake of his head.

“Would you like it tighter?”

There’s a pause. “...whatever Master wants.”

Good answer. Hux slides the ropes down, crossing them over the tram-lines down his back. He feeds through, and pulls them across his back so the pattern opens up, and then around to the space between the knots. The strands pull the two sections out, making a diamond, and he continues the patterns over his front and back. The harness tightens by degrees, making indentations in his skin, bumps up in the gaps. The red silk across his body is stark like blood, and when he’s done, Kylo is swaying on his feet.

Not from worry, just from the last place Hux touched. He’s got no sense of military attention now, more fluid like a softly breezed tree. 

Hux watches. He watches the way his ribs expand, and his nostrils gust over the air. The minute little muscle-twitches, the movement of eyes under lids. 

He’s never seen anyone so far under before. Sure, he’s known it’s possible. He’s even seen Ren go pretty deep, but it’s like time has no meaning, right now. Normally he’d not pause enough to see how long Ren would float, chasing some goal or another. 

But here, in this moment, the goal is nothing but the shy almost-smile on the boy’s sorrow-worn lips. Ren isn’t begging for more, because he’s already got what he needs. Hux knows, and... the swelling sense of satisfaction and pride is wonderfully soothing, and tremendously cathartic.

Useless, he’d called him. Not so useless now, is he? Not if he could tie up one of the most impressive Force-users the galaxy had ever known, and make him look like he was at one with the universe? Not if he could use his hands and tongue to show someone the edge of bliss, and give him a safe space that a Jedi Master and Supreme Leader hadn’t been able to help him find?

Nope. Not useless at all.

“Ren.”

The head turns, slowly. So, so, slowly. Drifting, seeking his voice.

“Would you like me to hurt you?”

“Yes, Master.”

He isn’t going to beat him. Not while he’s like this. It would be overkill, and also just ridiculous. Instead, he pulls out his vibroblade and flicks it into life. He holds it up to Kylo’s bound eyes, so he can hear it close up.

“Do you know what this is?”

“Yes, Master.”

Still no fear. There isn’t going to be any, is there?

Hux turns it so the blunt end faces Kylo, though he won’t know that. Angles it so the steep bend of the spine before the point touches his skin. It can’t do any damage unless he pushes the point or the blade-edge to him, though it can scrape and feel cold and tingly from the vibrations. 

Ren drops to hang from his wrists, utterly gone. Hux has to pause, and grab a high stool, pushing it under Ren’s butt so he doesn’t hurt his wrists with hanging down. A quick lash of belt between the boy’s spine and rope, shored against the back of the stool, and he’s at least supported, if only marginally. And he still must feel suspended, with his feet off the floor and his weight mostly caught between hands and the light ligature behind his back.

He’s not sure Kylo even knows. 

Hux draws the blade again, dancing around the inside of each diamond of skin, pressing in just enough to make it tingle and spark. He’s not going to draw deeper, not without sterilisation, and maybe not without asking. Bacta heals many things, but it’s not the point. Down, and then he puts the spine of the blade to one nipple.

“I could cut this off, you know.”

Ren just nods.

He could. He could maim – even murder – and Ren would take it. But this time, Hux has no desire to cause distress. Instead, he pinches the nub harder, and worries it until Ren moans, his hips thrusting into dead space. Hux rewards him by licking over the pert little bump, and seals his lips around to suckle it taut from his chest. The boy whimpers, and Hux sucks harder, harder... the blade back to drawing patterns, and then the sounds stop.

Or... they’re there. But it’s barely above a breath.

He doubts he can climax like this, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t still be pleasurable to do things. 

Hux slices through the rope above Kylo’s wrists, and guides him to drop down onto the chair. It takes some doing, but he gets him seated, and grabs his hair, pulling him towards his groin.

Obediently, Kylo rubs and nuzzles, but there’s no co-ordination. Fine motor control is gone, so he has to open his own pants and draw his cock across his lips, feeling the delay before they part. 

“Do you want this?”

A soft mrr, and a vague, but happy tongue that laps at him.

“I’ll give it to you,” he says, and holds his head still as he pushes in, fucking his mouth so very, very slowly. Admiring the pink hug of lips, the pillowy tongue under his cock. “You’re mine. Mine. And I’m going t-to...” 

The moment stretches for him, too. A long pause between words. 

“...going to... take care of you.”

Another shudder, and Hux pulls out just in time to come all over the boy’s face. He’s not sure he could swallow properly, and he likes to paint him with lust. Fingers softening, and he bends to kiss and lick him clean. 

Maybe not his job, but he wants to.

***

“Kylo... does the Leader know about us?”

He should maybe have asked this long ago. Like. Very long ago. 

“...no.”

“You haven’t told him?”

“I’ve... kept it from him.”

Oh. “But could he find out--?”

“...potentially. From your mind, mine, from the ship’s logs...”

Hux nods. Okay. So it’s a maybe. “What would he think, or do, if he found out?”

“I don’t know. Probably wait until it was a problem, then...”

“Then?”

“...you don’t want to know.”

Hux does. It’s why he asked. His eyes pinch almost shut. “I need to know. If this is serious, we both need to be honest. I’ll be honest with you, if you will with me.”

“He’ll likely demand I kill you.”

Okay, there’s honest, and then there’s terrifyingly cold. And honest. Hux has to admit he knew, on some level. He knew pretty much as soon as he realised all was not well in the Dark Side of the Force. But it’s still hard hearing your bedmate admit they expect to be forced to murder you.

“And?”

“...and?”

“Would you?”

“Only if I couldn’t not.”

Which is worrying, too. “Couldn’t not... how?”

Kylo’s nose tenses, and then he sucks his lips in. “You... know how I can control minds? He... can control mine. He... can make me do things I don’t want to do.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck. “Do you know when he’s doing it?”

“...I... think so?” His boy ducks. “I think so. Now. I couldn’t always...”

Hux strokes his hair, trying to soothe him. Fingers through the tangle, playing with the fall of it. “Kylo. I am going to ask you something. Will you answer me with complete honesty?”

The boy freezes, and goes stiff as an icicle.

“Do you know what needs to happen?”

A shake of his head.

“Are you sure?”

Another shake.

“I need your help to do it. But we can do it.”

“He’ll... he’ll know.”

“Which is why we need to do it sooner, rather than later.” Even thinking it is almost unbelievable to him. He’d been brought up to be the good, loyal little soldier, but... he hadn’t been brought up so badly to ignore what has been done to Kylo Ren. 

And once he’d hitched their fates together, he’d made their continued survival interwoven, not to mention the sheer _outrage_ of what was done to Ren.

“If I fail... he’ll torture you, to get to me. I don’t think I’m strong enough to watch that.”

Hux pulls him in, pressing his head to Ren’s. “He’s hurt you. And he’s hurt you in ways that haven’t helped, hasn’t he? If you let him continue... you will feel as bad as you always have.”

“But, I—”

“Do I help? Do I help you, more than him?”

He does, doesn’t he? A cold fear makes him shudder, wondering if he truly does. He thought so, but what if he’s just one in a line of people who offer him something, only to—

Frantic hands grab at him, and Hux looks down. 

“You do.”

“You’d say that to him, if he asked.” It isn’t unkind when he says it, it’s the brutal truth.

Ren’s eyes close, pained. “To stay alive. Yes. But you... won’t kill me, will you?”

Fucking hellfire fuck fuck fuck. That he even _asks_ that. “I absolutely will **not**.” And he’s offended he’s asking. Offended that it’s even on the table as a point of discussion.

“Then... you are better than him.”

“Ren... your yardstick for how good someone is for you is ‘will they kill me or not’?”

“Kill me, or try to break me into something dead inside. Yes.” He says it absolutely without flinching, and with the kind of stone-cold sober certainty that makes Hux’s blood run cold. 

“...the Jedi?”

A nod.

“My competition is someone who tried to tell you not to feel anything, and a man who tortured you to horrible feelings in order to use you for your power.”

Another nod.

“Ren, that’s—”

“My life.” He shrugs. “That’s my life, Hux. I’m not stupid. I know what’s happened. I might not be... I might be... willing to bend for you, but it doesn’t mean I’m some kind of simpleton.”

“It’s _disgusting_ ,” Hux says, suddenly fierce. “Kylo... much as you were the bane of my existence, I _never_ wanted to do what they did to you. Just possibly punch you in the face a few times, if you didn’t murder me for it.”

Fingers push hair away, and he drops his face into the pillow. Hux watches, and aches.

“I don’t know if I like what I like because of them, or if it’s who I am. I don’t know if I’m angry because of them, or because it’s _who I am_. And...”

“And?”

“Don’t you think I’m terrified? That...”

“That what? This is helping, isn’t it?”

“Until you get bored of me. Or you turn out to want something I can’t give. Or you get me hooked, and then you drop the other boot and push me into what you’ve been grooming me for... Hux. You _do_ understand, don’t you?”

“Enlighten me.” He’s not enjoying this conversation one bit. “Please.”

“You can leave me, or send me away, or use me... like everyone else does. You can get bored of me, and I’ll be...”

“Ren, look at me. No, _look at me_. I’m not going to get bored of you, and I don’t want you for your power.”

“Then why did you just ask me to... commit treason?”

“You just—” Calm. Calm. Breathe. “You told me he would make you execute me for our relationship. I think when it comes to wanting us both alive, being appreciative of your powers is an acceptable exclusion.”

Kylo thinks it through, then nods. “Yes.”

“Yes, it’s fair, or--?”

“Yes, it’s fair. And yes. I’ll do it... if you help me.”

Which is good, because Hux is not going to be able to keep his disgust hidden for much longer. 

“Anything. I want you safe. And me, but... _you_ , Ren.”

He feels eyes trail all over him, begging for the lie of it, desperate to prove him wrong. 

“What we do... do you want to continue?” Hux needs to know, while he’s still able to discuss it. 

“Don’t you?”

“Yes, but...” 

“...do you... does it bother you why I... need it?”

“You need it. That’s the important thing, not unpicking why. You _need_ it, and it makes you feel better.”

“Hux, anyone might think you cared.”

He deserves that, and he pulls him in to kiss his forehead. “I don’t care if you want it because of them, or because you’re wired up that way. I want to do it with you, for as long as you still want it, too.”

“And you thought I might think you were just as bad for me?”

Hux manages a laugh. “This didn’t exactly start out like this.”

“No. But the other two started out pretending to help me. Maybe even trying. You? You just wanted to hurt me.”

“So... that makes me more reliable?”

“It makes you _honest_. You didn’t mind me knowing what you wanted, no matter how wrong, or broken, or cruel it was. And I still needed it, too.”

Sensible Ren is unusual. It’s a refreshing change, actually, and he finds the boy’s hand. “You’re very contrary.”

“I am.”

But he’s calm, in this moment. He’s able to tell Hux what he wants, and needs. And why. Or... some of why. Hux kisses to his temple. “I do still want to hurt you. And not all of why I want to hurt you is to help you. But I don’t want to hurt you for no reason.”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Being honest with me.”

It stings like a blade to the gut, and he pushes Ren onto his back, grabbing his hands, and staring down. “I want to hurt you, because you suffer beautifully. Because sometimes you annoy the life out of me. Because I’m an angry person, and because it makes my anger go down.”

Honesty. It’s refreshing, to voice it.

“...I also want to hurt you because, when I do, you go to somewhere I could only dream of getting to. You look so _happy_. And apparently that matters to me, now.”

Pink lips bow upwards. “I want you to hurt me because it helps. It helps with my emotions. It helps me feel safer, and grounded. And it... feels good. It feels good, and it feels like I _need_ it, even if I’m terrified if you _do_ leave me, that I’ll be left with that need and nothing to fill it.”

He yanks him in, tight. “I’m not leaving.”

“You might.”

“Well, I’m not. And I won’t convince you any other way than by _staying_.”

Kylo actually... _purrs_. In his arms. “Okay.”

Hux holds him even _tighter_. “We do this, and then no one will use you again. I’ll be there, to take care of you. Even when we’re not... you know.”

“Can’t say it?” his boy teases.

He’s being a brat, but a softer one. It’s a deliberate tease, and so Hux whacks his ass lightly. “Careful, Ren.”

“In case you get mad and spank me?”

Hux actually does laugh. “Yes. Precisely that.”

***

So. It’s a thing. He’s plotting high treason, Ren is capable of reasoned discussions, they’ve agreed to conspire together, they’ve talked about why they want what they want, and...

Weirdly, it’s pretty functional. 

Hux finds he doesn’t actually care where the boy’s urges originated, or... he does. He is angry that they were shoved there, but not angry that they can be used to make him go utterly pliant and trusting with the right pressure.

He can’t _undo_ what happened. But he can work with what remains, and find ways to use those things for good. For good like Ren screaming in bliss on his cock, or under his hand. For a place to thrash out his anger, and know it’s okay. Know his partner understands why he wants to hurt, and doesn’t mind.

Ren. Ridiculous Ren, with his ridiculous needs. Which happened to line up with his own, and which – when treated right – made things electric for them both.

Hux is pretty sure he doesn’t deserve what they have. 

He watches as Kylo kneels before him, eyes closed, trusting. His fingers draw around that throat, reminding him how easily he could kill him. The collar he clunks into place is as binding as any oath of fealty, and it’s a promise they’re both making.

To serve. To lead. One can’t exist without the other, and he feels a keen pang at the sight of him. 

Beautiful. 

“You’re mine,” he murmurs. “Mine to do with as I wish.”

“Yes, Master.” He gazes up, from his knees, lips curling up.

“Now,” Hux continues. “Worship my boots.”

Ren crawls closer, and his lips go down to shiny black leather.

His boy. He strokes his hair, and gets ready.

This is going to be good. 


	5. Chapter 5

The Leader suspects. Hux can tell, even without the Force. He stares up at the man’s megalomaniac-massive hologram, his eyes scouring over the shadowy flickers above. He must suspect. Ren’s been behaving much more calmly, and they haven’t disagreed in his chamber for some time.

Probably, to be on the safe side, they should find something to argue about in public, in order to keep up appearances. But Hux isn’t sure Kylo has the necessary guile for such an operation. Although the mask conceals his face, this – this – _monster_ was in his mind since childhood.

And it’s not even like it’s just the normal level of programming, like a trooper or an officer would get. It’s not even that it’s instilling discipline and survival instinct into him. That would have been understandable, but he’s tortured the boy to breaking point, ripped at him until he has to be hurt just to cope with breathing, and kept him forever dependent and on edge. For why? To keep him from rebelling, of course.

It shows Snoke for what he is: weak, that he doesn’t trust he’s strong enough to be followed. Pathetic, that he would torture a child for his own means. Hux likes to cause pain, but he has _boundaries_. He doesn’t go around torturing children, for fuck’s sake. 

(And no. The trooper program is not torture. And if anyone says as much he will shoot them in the eye.)

“I have located a suitable planet for the second Starkiller,” he says, which is true. He thinks very loudly about it, about the pleasure he’d felt over the previous one, about the hurt he’d felt when they’d lost it.

It’s enough to convince Snoke. Or superficially it is. He has plenty of hate and disgust to cover over anything more pleasant, such as his budding relationship with the man’s Apprentice. Hux has spent so very many years of his life utterly devoted to hating the Republic that it’s not hard to side-track his mind enough to cover over. 

“And the design flaw in the previous one?”

“Eliminated. And more counter-signing required for disabling the shield, reducing the possibility of Human error.” Reducing. Not removing. There was always room for someone to fuck it up.

“Very well. You have my approval to begin.”

Hux snaps his heels together. He’s glad Ren isn’t here, because the boy never liked his weapon. He has no idea why.

***

“So?”

“He’s signed off on it.”

Kylo bounces, and Hux tilts his head in confusion. “You’re awfully chipper.”

“Don’t you see? It’s your _backup plan_.”

“My... what?”

“If I can’t kill him. You’ll not be defenceless.”

Well, it’s true, but... “I’d need to know where to point it.”

“ _I can tell you that_ , if I’m going to see him. Put a tracker on me, and when I—”

“You do know I already have one on you?”

“You think I always have it on me?”

Well. Touché. “Continue.”

“So you have the tracker on me, and rig it to my pulse, and if I’m gone... you go boom. I mean. Where I was. Not... you.”

“I did get that,” Hux says, rolling his eyes at the boy’s innocence. “It’s a good plan.” And one, in time, that he’d come to as well. The Starkiller Mark Two is so far off being complete now that it’s moot. But in time it will indeed be a viable weapon and option. “You’re a good boy.”

“I try, Sir.”

***

Ren really is behaving better. Hux wonders if all of his bad traits were cries for attention, or if his lack of emotional regulation was the main problem. Either way, when Hux gets back to their rooms he finds Kylo already napping by the couch. 

Perhaps he should be annoyed with the man for falling asleep, but it’s hard to be irritated when he sees him folded down onto his knees and haunches, his hands resting on his lap, his body clad in only a pair of loose pants, his neck collared and dipped as he breathes in and out.

The dream he’s in crosses his closed lids, twitches his lips, and it doesn’t look too distressed. Ren might have been waiting for him for hours, or thirty minutes. Impossible to tell. What matters is he came home, changed, and waited in this barely-comfortable position until he couldn’t even stay awake any longer.

He’s a very good boy. 

Hux pulls his glove off, and takes a bounce of dark curls in one hand, hefting it by his ear, watching as wakefulness spills slowly into his boy. He smiles beatifically down, and then glances his palm over Ren’s shoulder. 

“You were tired?”

“Yes. Long day, Master. I’m sorry.”

“You can sleep in this position, if I am late home. But not on the couch or the bed unless you are injured.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Now... I’m going to the ‘fresher. When I return, I expect you to be on the bed, blindfolded. Understand?”

“Yes, Master. Face... up or down?”

“Up.”

His boy creaks to his feet, and Hux admires his ass as it walks away from him. 

***

Clean, warm, and feeling pretty mellow, Hux returns to the bedroom to find his boy on his back, his eyes covered and his arms lifted in a pulse-point upwards show of surrender. He’s still wearing the soft black pants, but nothing else. The collar – marked as it is with ‘Property of Hux’ – adorns his throat.

Kylo’s smiling. Hux finds himself smiling, too. It’s infectious, and it’s weird. It’s not like he’s never cared about people, or... okay, so he hasn’t cared _much_. But even seeing Kylo in a good mood is enough to lift his own, now. The smile – subtle as it is – just bleeds through the air and curves his lips without his damn permission.

Ren isn’t the only one who is feeling better.

They have cuffs at each corner of the bed, now, and he clips the boy’s ankles apart, then puts his hands right over his head to the headboard. A single kiss to the corner of his infernal smile, and Hux leaves him there to fetch the toys.

He keeps them away so that Kylo has to wait that moment longer, and so he can’t as easily work out what he’s going to use on any given day. Well. Without using the Force. 

“Have you been good today?”

“I’ve tried, Master.”

“Which means you did something you’re not proud of.”

Because he caught the tremor in his words, even if only slight.

“...one of my Knights was not blocking well. I lost my temper with her.”

That’s an understandable slip, especially when the mood is elevated by training adrenaline. Still, it’s a slip up. “Is that all?”

“Yes, Master.”

“I’ll need to punish you for that, and then you’ll be forgiven, if you learn your lesson.”

A nod, and Ren doesn’t even try to argue. He actually does work fine with rules if you know how to reinforce them. You have to combine positive and negative reinforcement, because without the punishment, he doesn’t ever feel better. 

Hux opens up the small jar of menthol-strong salve, and he watches Ren’s nostrils flare around the acerbic smell. It’s mostly clear and glistens, but he knows it will burn lightly wherever it’s placed. He tested it on himself before, and the tingle was pleasure-pain for him, so he expects Ren will like it even more.

Over his chest, starting from the left, he swipes the substance to make trails. The three-letter word (his name) makes Ren’s skin slick and pink, and Hux is careful to wipe his fingers with one of the little cloths so he doesn’t put those fingers in a mouth, or worse. 

“How does that feel?”

“Stings,” comes the response. “Burns.”

“Good.”

He lifts the new toy, a small violet wand. It’s about the length of Kylo’s saber-hilt, but less wide. Not big enough for properly satisfying penetration, but he’s also pretty sure it would be a bad idea to use it turned on, as it casts a light electrical field and Hux isn’t sure how well Kylo will even take to it. 

But you have to try.

The device hums slightly, and he holds the insulated end, lowering it by degrees to near the top line of the H of his name, watching Ren’s face. 

“...Sir?”

“Remember your words.” Safe, and ‘close’, but he knows Ren would probably die before he used the safe one. 

Ren nods, and then gasps as the device sparks the first loop of feeling, his back arching off the bed.

“Good?”

“ _Yes_.” It’s enthusiastic, and blissed. Kylo’s never been shy about expressing his satisfaction with things, which has always been one hell of an ego trip. 

He draws the line down, watching as Ren writhes towards it, then away. It’s obviously one of those sensations that borders on too much, and he’s careful not to give him too much, too fast. Across the first letter, and then pushing to touch his skin and drag the U over the middle of his sternum.

The contact is sharper, and Ren _howls_ at it, pulling with wrists and ankles, but not to get free. He does this when he’s overly-stimulated, and Hux loves to make him hit that point. The electricity crackles stiffly, and Kylo’s panting loudly when the toy lifts. 

“ _Thank you_ ,” he whispers, his voice raw and rough from the touch. 

“One more. And then your punishment is over. Unless you transgress again?”

His punishment isn’t really punishment is the problem. Ren craves it so utterly, and Hux knows the temptation to misbehave to get what he wants is strong. That’s the hardest thing for them: his boy hungers for chastisement, and he knows he can get it if he does err. But he also wants to please Hux, so there has to be reward to aim for as well as punishment.

It’s not always easy to find the middle ground.

The X is quicker. Kylo isn’t bucking so much, his mouth open and his tongue visible as he shudders through the contact. His hands flex in and out of fists, and then he’s rocking up into nothingness above him, his cock stirring firmly away from his lap. 

“Better?”

“Didn’t hurt enough,” Kylo admits, his head falling to one side. “Master.”

It isn’t facetious, or contrary, it’s just plain honest. 

“That’s because it was the _punishment_ , and not the _pleasure_.”

Which makes Kylo perk quite openly, a little hissy, gaspy breath as he does so. He’s caught, and Hux is winning.

Hux is usually winning. If Hux is _not_ winning, he’s about to sneak up from behind and take pole position and then beat everyone with the pole to make sure he _continues to win_. 

The wand is switched off, put gently to one side. Hux’s fingers trace around the slightly-gleamy brand across his skin, and he wonders if the minor fuzz-burn will last like a hickey til tomorrow or not. Some of the reading said yes, some no. 

Ren’s skin is a mystery the universe has yet to explain. He either goes wine-stain red, or the abrasions slide off him like he’s waterproofed, somehow. Both are beautiful, though Hux would rather be sure when he tried to leave a mark that it would be there the next day. 

Now he’s nicely warmed up (literally), he opens the small case he brought in. It’s insulated, so the glass wands and stones are as cold as they were in the freezer, but dry enough not to stick, or burn. He holds one like a stylus, pushing the point in and drawing around the hot-burny letters. Kylo _wails_ , and pushes his face into his arm to stifle it, which only makes Hux press harder. Around, framing the name, the brand of ownership... around, and then down in a single straight line from the dip between his collarbones to the hollow of his navel. 

He waits, there, watching Ren’s face (or what parts of it he can see). He knows the boy will dread and want the cool stick to touch his cock, and he wonders which will be loudest. 

Whichever it is, he doesn’t let Hux know with words. What he wants is irrelevant, because he’s given over control. The General smiles, and bends to kiss the very tip of his cock. “I think it’s time we saw how close and how long I can keep you on the edge...”

Kylo shuffles, his legs spreading, even though a little thrill of fear passes over his face.

“You want to know, don’t you? You want to know how far you can take pleasure.”

“S-sir...”

Normally it’s pain he gives him. Pain to almost breaking point. Pain that turns to pleasure.

But pleasure can _turn to pain_ , just as easily. 

Hux grabs his ankles, pushing them up towards his ass. He pulls a pillow down, and encourages Ren up so he can slip it below his butt. The spread of his legs offers up his ass and groin, and Hux admires the sight for a moment, sucking in his lip. Yes. Good.

The box opens, and he pulls out a chilled, plug-shaped toy. It’s clear transparisteel, and he puts a small amount of the stinging salve in with lube, stroking it wetly over the point, down to the flare. Grabbing one foot, he starts to push the toy at the boy’s hole, twisting it, knowing it won’t go in deep too fast, especially cold. He watches the muscles of his thighs tighten at the shock-cold, and he presses harder against his hole. 

“Tell me, boy, how does the Force feel to you, now?”

The question catches him off-guard, and he lifts his head, even as the plug slips a little deeper in. “Sir?”

“How does the Force feel to you.”

Hux isn’t sure if he’s just hallucinating the gust of air across his face, or if Kylo’s reaching out into the physical world to ground himself.

“B-bright.”

“That’s not very descriptive.”

There’s a definite whirl in the air. “Close. Bright... _loud_. Like... right there... like... close...”

Hux seats the plug inside him with one rough, sure shunt. “Are you in control?”

“ _No_... don’t... need to...” His boy’s voice is like fraying fabrics. “Don’t need to. Force... is itself.”

That’s new. Before, it had all been about ‘mastering’ it, or ‘completing his training’, not surrendering to it. Will he still feel the same way when the scene is over, Hux wonders? “Don’t you need to be better at using it?”

“...no... it... it lets you... you let go...”

The shifted-voice is definitely from the altered mindspace, and Hux twists the plug inside of him, making Kylo writhe on it. He grabs some of the diluted salve, applying it to two cold sticks, and starts to stroke them over Kylo’s cock. The cold and the sting work against the arousal, but not enough to dim it down. He sees the way his belly flexes below the shaft, and listens to the tiny changes in his breathing as he starts to drum very, very carefully. Not hard enough to even hurt, just to feel like fingers tapping up and down either side of his cock. 

Kylo moans in broken pleasure, his movements minute and hungry. 

“You don’t feel afraid of it?”

“No. Master.”

“Why?”

“Don’t... need to. Got you.”

Even though he doesn’t have the Force himself. Hux chokes slightly, and rewards him with a lick of his tongue over the slit, the cold sticks warming gradually. He moves to pinch his balls above and below with them, sliding the sticks left and right as he suckles on the very tip of his cock. 

He just keeps the stimulation there, over the head, as he manipulates his balls. The sticks are getting warm again, so he pulls back and puts them in the box. A few flat, cold, round stones are next, and he places them over his belly like a rainbow over his navel. Kylo sighs blissfully, and he picks up the wand. 

Ignoring his cock for the moment, Hux trails over the numbing skin near the stones, then down sparking the inside of Kylo’s pale thighs. He rides across his clenching buttocks, and uses one finger on the plug’s flare to gently fuck him with it, tugging it to almost pop out, then grinding it hard inside, shifting the angle to graze against his prostate. Kylo’s a panting mess, his hair flaring out, and Hux just... it’s... he’s so fucking...

“I’m proud of you,” he says, as the wand pushes into the dip of his belly-button. “You’re doing so well. Do you know? So well.”

Kylo _squeaks_. Actually squeaks. “Master...”

“I mean it, Kylo.” And he is. Kylo. Not Ren. It’s been slipping more in his mind, but he realises he’s... in love? With him? And he cares, and the title isn’t really ‘him’. He’s Kylo. Flawed, but trying. “You’re so strong, to keep going so long. To still be able to trust.”

“D-don’t you mean... broken?”

“You’re not broken. You might have cracks, but you’re not broken.” He leans, kissing at his forehead. “You’re still feeling. Still fighting. Picking someone who wants to _help_ you, not harm you.”

“I didn’t know when we—”

“No. But you do now. And you want this, don’t you?” He slams at the plug, making the boy buck until his prick nearly touches the wand, and a jolt travels up his spine.

“YES.”

“Remember your words.”

He puts a hand under his dick, then pulls the wand as close to his cock as he can, watching as the boy squirms in delight. His mouth open, his tongue a welcome yawn of pleasure. Hux grins, and taps just once. 

Kylo doesn’t make a noise, but he tenses, then relaxes.

He puts the wand away, and then runs his hands soothingly over his chest. “You’ve never fucked someone, have you?”

“S-sir?”

“I was your first, wasn’t I?”

There’s a confused nod, and Hux pushes the mask up, surging to hold his face and kiss him. His lips tug at Kylo’s, peeling the lower from his teeth, sucking gently. Kylo’s still pliant and soft below him, or... soft in places. He reaches down to stroke over his cock, wondering.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“...why?”

“Because I want to feel you inside of me. Because you’ve been so good.”

“...but...?”

“You don’t have to be in control just because you’re fucking, you know. And... maybe I will let you be in control some day, when you’re ready. But you’re not ready yet, are you?”

Kylo shakes his head, his dazed eyes fighting for focus. “No. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Do you think you’d like to fuck me? I can show you how. I can tell you precisely how.”

He thinks it might be really damn nice, and his hand takes the boy’s confused dick from root to tip, pinching at the crown, playing with the sensitive head. 

A tiny nod. 

“I’m going to untie your hands. You’re going to do everything I tell you to.”

Another nod. Hux can feel excitement pooling in himself. Controlling someone who isn’t tied down? The prospect is intriguing, and he releases the restraints. The boy doesn’t move, and Hux moves the toys out of the bed. He leaves the plug in his ass, and plucks each cold stone from Kylo’s belly. The boy still doesn’t move, though his eyes are watchful and ready. 

“Warm up the lube.”

Instruction helps, and he watches as Kylo’s fingers shake slightly around the bottle. He holds his own hands out to soothe them, to still them, and strokes over the backs of his knuckles. “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re going to do a good job.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. You’re going to make me really happy. You already _do_.”

A smile – unguarded – and eyes that nearly cry. Hux kisses the expressive lips, and he adjusts them so they’re lying on their sides, face to face. He cocks his leg over Kylo’s, and gives him the room to slide his hand between them. 

“You like it?” Kylo asks.

“Sometimes. Normally don’t bed people more than a few times, so...”

“Why?”

“...didn’t want the...” Why? It is a good question. “They weren’t worth the effort. Or I just wasn’t ready. A bit of both.”

He hadn’t been intending for this to continue, and he moans quietly as the finger starts to poke warily at his hole. Kylo’s reticence and bashfulness are appealing, and so very sincere. He knows the boy will be a good, sweet fuck. He knows – for once – he won’t mind someone knowing he quite likes that, along with the rough and tumble. 

Hux curls a hand around Kylo’s neck, toying with the collar from behind, pushing his forehead to touch the boy’s. He smiles, and moves carefully to rock onto the finger that barely penetrates him, whispering: “You won’t break me, you know. Not with your hand, anyway. Your dick is a whole different matter.”

“...why?”

“Why do I want this?”

A nod, and the finger pushes in, the stretch unfamiliar and good. Hux allows himself a moment to acclimatise, rolling back, taking it deeper in. 

“Why do you?”

“...different.”

“Really?” He reaches for the plug, rocking it into him, pressing down and gasping in delight as it spurs Kylo on to push his fingers in all the way. 

“...I’m... your boy.”

“And you have the monopoly on pleasant sensations? Kylo...” A shake of his head. “It feels good for me, too. Maybe different to when you’re fucked, but it’s still pleasant. And I want it. I want it with _you_.”

Realisation dawns for a moment, and then his boy leans in to ask for a kiss wordlessly. He’s able to ask for affection for himself, but this one feels like a more open offer.

The kiss is slow, and the squelching noise of fingers spreading him wider itches his dick harder. He ruts against Kylo’s belly, feeling their shafts buttress against the other, and then he’s sure he’s open enough. The plug in Kylo’s ass is pulled almost out, and wriggled until he’s wracked with it, and Hux has to pause.

“How?” the boy asks.

Hux moves, lying on top of the cushion Kylo’s vacated, grabbing his thighs and lifting them to offer his ass. He doesn’t feel at all vulnerable, not right now. Kylo’s about as dominant as a flimsi bag right now, and the full, fat cock that bounces in front of him just looks like a delicious ride, nothing more sinister than that.

“Take me slowly. Don’t come. Not unless I tell you it’s okay. Want you to feel how good it is to be inside of someone.”

“ _You_.”

“Inside **me** ,” he agrees. “Let me show you how it feels, and let yourself please me.”

It’s just a sexual position, after all. Even if he’s maybe made it a little harder for Kylo to accept it’s possible to vary so much. Hux lets his legs wrap around his waist, pulling him inexorably in. 

Kylo takes a breath, and then starts to hold his cock in place. It’s thick, and good, and when he slides deep inside... oh, yes. The split of it is wonderful, and he’s glad Kylo went slow with his fingers. It’s been a while since he had anything there, other than the occasional toy. Hux reaches up for his forearms, and smiles.

“So good. So good.”

“...you... Hux... you feel...”

Softness creeps around his face. “This is how it feels to fuck you. Mostly. So tight, and good. So nice to know you let me inside of you.”

Because it is an opening of self, to allow your partner to penetrate you. Even if it is ‘just’ an act. It’s a closeness, and a vulnerability, and this is very much not just pain and control. That’s in there, but it’s just one part of something much, much bigger.

Kylo starts to thrust, and pushes deeper with every roll of his hips. Hux beams, enjoying the stretching sensation. Kylo has such a nice cock, he’s been dying to climb onto it at _least_ once. “Kylo...”

“Master...”

He feels a spreading sensation in his chest, and he realises... he hasn’t told him, has he? Hasn’t told him, even though they’re planning to destroy every Force-user who threatens them both, and risk everything... just because they want to be together. 

They’re doing this so backwards.

“Kylo... you should know something.”

But the boy’s eyes crease, and he grabs the bed on either side of Hux’s head, his hips angling down, pushing in to make sparks wash up his spine. “I know.”

“You do?”

He nods. “I... know other people better than I knew me.”

“That why you wanted me?” he asks, a little strained. “You... knew? What I might...? That I was capable of...?” Capable of loving him. 

“Hoped. No. Didn’t hope. Thought you were too good for me.”

Hux chokes on a laugh. “Too good?” Oh, the idiotic man-child. He grabs his hair, holding him in for another kiss, licking his way into his mouth as they rock by degrees into one another. “You nerf. You’re wonderful. Well. You are _now_.”

“Because of you.”

“Because of _us_ ,” he insists. “I can’t make you something you’re not.”

“Why are you being so nice?”

Why indeed? He urges him in deeper, sighing in contentment at the feel of his insides almost being folded out of the way to make room for the penetration. It’s a heady, salty bliss, and he bites the inside of his mouth. Is it really so unexpected for him to ever be ‘nice’ to someone? Admittedly he whips and beats him, but—

“Hux.” Not Master. Not right now. No matter how subdued and soft his Knight currently is, this isn’t control. 

Or. Subtle. Yes. No. Both. Fuck.

“It’s not all... anger.”

Inside. 

“You like this, too?” Kylo asks, and fingers run through his hair.

Hux doesn’t know if Kylo’s ever done that before, and it makes his spine fucking _melt_. He’s not used to being treated gently, even if he sometimes does it for Kylo when he’s deep enough down. Fighting a momentary panic, he lets his head snap yes. Yes. 

Yes.

“You want someone to love you.”

“No. No, I...” Shit, he’s started that out wrong. “I want _you_ to. Like I love you.”

He feels like he just confessed to every sin he ever committed. Why is that so hard to say? To tell Kylo he wants to be loved? They’ve agreed to take over the galaxy, but this is more dangerous than treason, and there’s a sudden panic that he—

“Well. I do. So. You can stop worrying.” Kylo rubs his nose to Hux’s. “But you didn’t have to let me fuck you to get me to love you.”

“I... I know. But I... I do like it.” At times. Not always. He’s not often emotionally capable of this, but when he is... no. He hasn’t, before. He’s been fucked, but he’s sure no one’s ever made _love_ to him, and that’s what this easy rolling is, this hand that finds his cock and strokes him so kindly. “I like this. And the other.”

“Me too.”

Not always. But sometimes. Sometimes, he can let it be this: softer, kinder, sweeter. Arms over shoulders, fingers in his hair. He feels the heat spread across his chest and cheeks from the tiny rainfall of kisses, the caresses to his scalp. Kylo isn’t needing direction, and Hux is glad. He’s not sure he could ask for this part, and he turns to capture his lips with his.

His hands move down to grab his ass, encouraging him to move faster. The kisses are messy, and loving, and Hux can feel the rising need to come in his blood like a tidal wave. It’s getting harder to focus, and his nails push into the fleshy ass, giving Kylo a sting to urge him higher.

“ _Yes_ ,” Kylo whirs, his hips snapping with more fierceness.

Hux scratches up to his hair, and then grabs hold of the locks to pull them back, bending his throat.

“Fuck me like you mean it,” he growls, and sinks his teeth into his throat.

It’s enough to urge him to madness, and Hux holds on desperately as Kylo fucks him with no restraint. It thuds into him, making him feel ripped open and stuffed with joy, and he moves to grab an earlobe and bite down hard.

“Love you,” he tells him, angrily.

“Love you too,” Kylo assures him, and then there’s a strange, pulsing sensation and a cry of distress.

He needs to come, but he’s been told not to. Hux knows, and he struggles to find the plug at his ass, grabbing the end and hammering the small amount of give it has. Kylo’s ass tenses, fighting to keep it in, and Hux twists it hard to rub that spot inside of him. “Come in me. Come in me. Show me you love me.”

“I--- _ghnngh_ —”

Kylo does come, and Hux keeps grinding inside of him with the toy, smacking it against his prostate, milking every last drop of come from him. It’s pulsingly hot, and wonderful, and he needs... he’s so close, so close.

When Hux pulls the plug out of his lover, there’s a scream that goes up his spine. He’s still split open, but Kylo isn’t moving, and he’s so, so, so close.

“May I?”

Even now, asking permission.

“ _Please_ ,” Hux asks (does not beg, does not).

The broad hand that finds his cock is gloriously dry, and he almost sobs in relief as Kylo strokes him. He chases and twists with brutal efficiency, and then there’s a punch in his balls that explodes out his cock, splattering all over their bellies, pulling the tension out with loving, rough touches.

Hux floats on the crest of it, washed out by sensation, and he’s vaguely aware this might be how Kylo feels when Hux takes control. If it is – even a fraction of it – he can understand why Kylo keeps coming back for more. Other than the whole... _feelings_ thing. Which is insane, but glorious.

He loves him. He loves him, and they both are smiling like idiots. He’s thoroughly fucked, Kylo is spent and exhausted, and they tangle in close, with Kylo’s cock softening inside of him. He’s covered in his own come, but he’s... just... happy.

They don’t talk for some time. They don’t need to, and Hux isn’t sure he even could. 


	6. Chapter 6

Hux does not like not knowing what is happening. He does not. He does not like feeling out of control, and he also doesn’t like Kylo being somewhere he can’t reach.

Even if he knows – logically speaking – that his presence would be dangerous... Kylo is protective of him, too. Snoke could easily lash out at _him_ , and divert Kylo’s attention. Hux has minimal ability to protect himself, and even a blaster is nothing against someone like Snoke.

But he _does not have to like the fact he’s left behind_.

The vitals monitor synched to his datapad blips worriedly, then goes calm.

Hux watches as it levels, and knows Kylo is getting close. He knows the Knight is using the rituals and mantras they worked on, the visualisations to give him a shield to hide behind, to get close to the Leader in order to complete their plan. 

This is not good. It really isn’t, even if it’s their best shot. He’s sending Kylo back to...

No. He can’t.

As the line goes eerily level, he realises he can’t do it. No matter what... and he taps a frantic message on the private comm-line.

_“Hux?”_

“How close are you?”

_“We’re about to dock.”_

“Leave. Now.”

_“But—”_

“Do it, and comm me when you hit black.”

The line is quiet for a moment, and Hux runs his fingers over the controls. It took some doing getting it rewired here, where he can control the weapon. It’s not complete, and it’s not fully charged, but it’s charged enough to take down a Star Destroyer.

Like. Say. One that Snoke might be aboard.

And this is likely utterly ridiculous, right? He can’t possibly get away with it. He can’t _possibly_ press the button he’s had siphoned off to his quarters. He can’t just... push it and the weapon fires on the signal he took from Kylo’s tracker.

The planet-weapon rumbles, the low-capacity bolt firing through the sky. He sees the readout, and sees the bolt through the blast-shielded window. It reacts to cut down the worst of the glare, but the angry red tongue whips out across the galaxy.

Hux might even have been loyal for life, if it hadn’t been for what he’d seen of Kylo’s abuse at Snoke’s knee. A child, made to crave pain. A _child_. It was one thing training soldiers to survive, it was another destroying an innocent just for your own power. 

This time is different. It’s not the distant hatred of a learned target, it’s the cool, sure knowledge that the man he’s just destroyed was _evil_. Evil. In the truest sense. If killing him brings about the gradual loss of the Order to the Resistance...

...he actually might think it’s worth the cost. Though he’d obviously prefer things to continue without the late Leader. 

The comm calls.

_“Hux... you did it?”_

“Yes.”

_“...why?”_

“He could have hurt you again,” he replies, and now his adrenaline is hitting. The feeling on a lag, starting to make his body giddy. “I couldn’t be responsible for that.”

_“He’s gone._ ”

“You know, for sure?”

_“Yes. Yes... I... he’s gone.”_

Good. Hux takes a step backwards, grabbing for a chair to support him. He slumps into it, and the icy anger in his core swirls like a maelstrom. He did it. He killed him.

They’re free.

“Hurry home, Kylo.”

_“As fast as I can_.”

***

No one notices. Why would they? The Leader was off on a ship no one ever saw. In fact, the only two who would ever speak to him are Kylo and Hux. There’s no need for them to even let people know he’s gone, not until they want to. 

They can control this. They can _spin_ this. They can keep on top of the wave, but mostly – mostly they’re free. 

A button. Snoke never saw it coming, did he? His attention had been so caught by his Apprentice that he’d entirely underestimated the man with his hand on the trigger. Perhaps he should have let Kylo kill him for the catharsis, but he’d wanted to _ensure_ the man didn’t get to torture his beloved ever, ever again. Even once.

He stands on the deck, looking up into the _Upsilon-_ class shuttle. Kylo walks down the steep ramp, still swaddled from head to toe in black. 

Hux just... doesn’t...

He storms right up to him, grabbing the bottom of his faceplate and tugging his head down to press against his. With Snoke dead, he doesn’t care about people seeing them, though every trooper on duty looks fiercely the other way.

“I couldn’t let him hurt you,” he rasps. “Not again.”

Kylo’s a fine mess of tiny tremors, and Hux knows his control has been slipping because he saw the readouts. The Knight holds his hips, and Hux knows they need to get somewhere private, soon. 

“Come with me.”

***

Hux holds his hand the whole way back to their rooms, even though his face is bright red. It’s... he’s never been one for public displays of affection, and he’s only still holding on because he thinks Kylo needs the grounding. 

When they get in through the door, Kylo just stands, shuddering. Hux’s hands go up to the mask, pulling it off, giving him the air to breathe through it. He watches him swaying, and carefully guides him to the couch. Down, and he sits beside him, clutching his hand and tucking his head under his chin.

“He’s gone.”

“I—I—”

“I’m sorry I robbed you of the kill. I just... couldn’t let him...”

There’s a bleating noise, and he’s not sure if Kylo is distressed with him or not. He holds him tighter, and fights his own panic at his lover’s distress.

“I... w-w-wasn’t ssssshure I... c-could do it.”

The stammered, broken confession is heartbreaking to hear. Even after all Snoke had put him through... was it because he didn’t feel strong enough, or something much more insidious? Hux is glad it isn’t a problem, now. Or he hopes it isn’t a problem, now.

“He’s gone.”

“Th-thhh-thhhhh—”

Kylo starts crying, and Hux rubs his back, trying to ease him through it.

“F-fffffff _eel_ badhe’s _gone_.”

Hux swallows. “You do?”

“Ssssshouldn’t, but I—”

“He was a big part of your life, and he made you depend on him. He was... continuity for you. But he wasn’t good for you.”

A fierce, rough shake of head.

“I’ll be good for you.”

Much rougher nodding. 

“Come on... let me help you calm down.”

Kylo flinches, and Hux frowns. He didn’t mean like _that_. Although he’s not sure how you calm down a boy who’s just... had to deal with feeling their abuser murdered through the Force, when he was geared up to do it himself. 

He lets Hux guide him to bed, and when they get there, Kylo lifts his hands over his head. He’s still crying, and Hux cups his jaw. 

“Are you sure?”

“ _I need it to hurt_.”

“Kylo.”

His eyes are closed, and Hux touches his face until they open.

“Kylo... do you remember your words?”

A snort, and he nods. “Of course. Master.”

The term – the honorific – feels a bit awkward, considering what just happened. 

“Tell me the second word. Tell me that, and I’ll know you’re ready.”

“If I fucking tell you then you’re supposed to _stop_.”

“Not if you’re telling me the word so I know it.” It’s not even that he doesn’t trust he won’t give it, it’s more that he needs to be _certain_ Kylo is ready for this, and if he can’t even voice the word before he needs it...

“It’s...” Shudders, and he’s nearly bucking off the bed. He doesn’t say it aloud: the lips never move from their alabaster pinch, but...

_Ben_.

Into his head. Yes. 

Hux thought as much, but to have it confirmed is good. He strokes Kylo’s hair away from his face, feeling his chest hurt a little. This had started out as punishment for his transgressions, and in a sense Kylo still needs it. But this isn’t just to blow off steam, or expel hate, or anything like that. It’s mutual: Kylo needs him, and he... needs Kylo. In different ways, but it’s a need, all the same. 

“Strip. Strip your overgrown ass. If you want this, you can damn well look like it.”

He keeps his tone level, and it brooks no argument. He knows Kylo needs the reassurance, right now, and he doesn’t move away from the bed as the boy leaps up, obeying without question.

Kylo needs this. 

Hux can provide it.

When he’s done, the boy stands beside the bed. His head down, his hands to his sides, as he waits for the order.

“Go to the wall. Face it.”

“Yes, Master.”

He goes over at once, and Hux pauses to admire for a moment. He watches the rustling of his hair when his shoulders move the locks, and he knows this isn’t wrong. Snoke may have made the boy into something with holes, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still function. And it doesn’t mean he can’t find something – someone – to fill those holes, and to fill those in someone else, too.

Hux has never been in love before, but now he has, he’s not going back.

The cuffs permanently on the wall are easily caught, and clipped to wrists and ankles. Kylo steadies himself – his feet braced shoulder-width apart – and he finds one of the heavier floggers. It’s long (the tails as long as his elbow to his wrist), with a mix of soft, supple suedes and heavier leather tongues with V-sections cut out to provide more stimulation. He hefts and twists it in one hand to get the feel for it.

“Why do you need this?” he asks.

“I...”

Hux does not land the flogger, twisting it through the air close enough to breeze gusts over his shoulders without making contact. 

“I... w-was... b-bad...”

That earns him a solid whack to one shoulder, and then more whooshing.

“I was _bad_ ,” Kylo repeats, with more force. “I was **bad** , Master.”

Another crack, two. Left then right. This time, after the blows land, he reduces the snap in his wrist and draws soft figure-eights over his back. 

“I _WAS_.”

“Tell me how.”

Kylo yanks at the cuffs, raging, and Hux refuses to hit him again. It is not time. It is not time, not yet. 

“I – _fuck_ – I... was _angry_ when you killed him.”

“Why?”

“ _Because I didn’t want him dead_.”

Hux hesitates. Didn’t he? Was that... was that...?

“I—I did but I also—it was... he was... so deep inside that it... I wasn’t sure I wanted him gone, even... _e-e-even th-though he hhhhhh-hhhhhhurt me, and I_ —”

Hux laces the flogger over his throat, pulling his head back. He stands against his spine, his calves, his ass. Breathes over his ear, and growls: “It’s okay to miss something you were used to. But it was bad for you, and you have to remember that. He _hurt_ you, and not in good ways. He kept you _back_.”

“But he’s _gone_.”

“Yes. He was **bad**.”

Kylo shakes his head, even though Hux knows he knows. Or – one level of him does. This is... “You need me to punish you for being sad he’s dead, and for being happy, don’t you?”

More swaying, and then: “ _Saber_.”

Hux nods, and steps back. He lets the flogger fall away, and he pulls back. The first lash nearly catches Kylo’s ear, and he has to go more carefully. Even if he’s emotional himself over the final death of that _monster_ , he needs to keep check of himself.

The second one lands neater, and he strips his way down Kylo’s spine, careful over his kidneys, and over his bare ass. He lets the snappy kisses thud harder where Kylo’s body is naturally muscular, and can’t help but admire the shudder of those muscles below his skin. 

“He bound you to him. But only for him. He made you depend on him, but he didn’t care what he did to you.”

Kylo starts sobbing again, nodding under the cacophony of blows. 

“He did _not_ care for you. He did _not_ help you. He is gone, and that’s good. No matter how he went.” He hopes it doesn’t matter how he went. He did steal the kill right from under his saber, after all.

“ _So why do I miss him_?”

“Because he _tortured you_ into caring. Because you—” and here he slaps very, very hard, “...care and love so deeply. You loved what you wanted him to be.”

“No!”

“ **Yes**.”

He lands more blows, snapping down his back, punctuating the message. 

“You loved what wasn’t real. He made you do that, and you know it was wrong, even if you felt it.”

The shuddering gets harder, so Hux’s blows do, too. He all but slices at the strong back, and listens for every sharp hiss of breath.

“ _I did_.”

He sees, doesn’t he?

“And what should you want, instead?”

He watches him pull and thrash, trying for freedom and failing. His breathing is harsher than an electrical storm, and Hux snaps at one butt-cheek.

“YOU!”

“Apologise to me. Apologise to me for wanting him. Because that’s _sick_ , Kylo. It’s _sick_.”

It is, and they both know it, and he knows Kylo needs to feel chastised for his behaviour, even if it was beaten _into_ him with mental blows. He knows Kylo needs the pain and punishment to put the feeling down, to move on. He needs _this_ more than he could ever have needed the final, killing blow.

“ _I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry...”_

Every sorry is punctuated by another slap, another crack of the flogger. His skin is going pink and sore under the touches, but Kylo needs _more_. Hux can tell.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promises, his voice ragged. “I’ll always keep you safe. Even from yourself. Do you understand?”

Kylo _screams_ , then, and it’s something beyond words. It’s something meant down from his core, and Hux throws the flogger away, and grabs him, arms around him, pushing between his boy and the wall. He holds him as tightly as he can, feeling him fight and fight and fight and...

...then it all goes, and he’s nodding, and crying, and Hux presses the release clasps on his wrists, but uses his weight to hold him to the wall. Soft kisses to his nape, and he’s crying, too. Fuck.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promises. “I love you.”

The boy shatters in his grip, the fight gone for now. Maybe not for good, but for now. The pain’s enough, the punishment and the forgiveness filling the hole in his chest. He can feel the bones mending, oh so torturously slowly. 

It’s not going to be the end of it, he knows. He’ll need it again, but right now... he’s had enough pain. The demons are silenced, and when he guides him to the bed, they curl in tight.

It’s not about sex, not right now. It’s not even about agony. It’s the utter trust and faith he has in Hux, the desperate desire to be known, understood. The need to be forgiven and loved, no matter what. He pulls the boy into his lap as he sits against the headboard, accepting his heavy weight and kissing his face all over.

Hux wants this, too. He wants it because he’s in love, and he wants only the best for Kylo. 

The tiny brush of his mind into Hux’s, and the way their hands lace and their breathing falls into pace.

“Th-thank you...”

“Thank _you_ ,” Hux tells him. 

“W-why?”

“For showing me this.” This. This raw and heady thing. This thing that’s way beyond sex, way, way, way beyond it. He doesn’t feel sexual arousal right now, and he doesn’t need to, either. He just feels love, and an overwhelming sense that he’d fight a million armies to keep him from ever hurting in the bad way again.

“Oh.”

Quiet, dreamy, and completely at peace.

Hux kisses his temple, and rocks him gently. “You showed me I’m more than my anger.” Even if his anger destroyed the Leader. It was for a good reason, not a petty one. It was for something he knows – all the way into his core – was _right_. 

And perhaps he should mourn all the lives that went down with him on that ship, but he’s not quite good enough for that. They’re faceless, nameless, and his heart isn’t the kind to bleed for just anyone. But for Kylo... for Kylo it can.

He keeps up the rocking, shushing and praising, as Kylo floats in his hands. The moment stretches out as if to eternity, and Hux never wants it to stop.

“I love you,” Kylo says again. 

Hux kisses him like the galaxy will end if he doesn’t. He needs his boy as much as his boy needs him. He feels whole, for the first time. He feels... complete. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone.


End file.
